


Liberty

by BethAlex



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 60
Words: 224,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7332967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BethAlex/pseuds/BethAlex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new friend (thanks, Giotto!) pointed out that there are still people interested in Queer as Folk.  I have 600 pages of this story typed up, the rest is still a manuscript - as in, handwritten.  Actual pen, actual paper.  The story itself is finished, it just needs typing and proof-reading.  I think I'll have about 1,000 pages when I'm done.</p><p>I recently lost a lot of stuff due to a computer crash; so I decided to finally put this here, where it will hopefully be safe for a while. (I once did have the whole thing typed up.  I'll do it one more time, but I really don't want to do that again after that!)</p><p>So.  This story is my take on what happens when Justin returns from New York.  Some places in Pittsburgh are my invention, others actually do exist, or rather, they existed at the time I wrote this.  I used a lot of the characters we saw in the series, and I created a few more.</p><p>I'm not giving any warnings - if you watched QaF, you know what to expect.  (I don't write explicit f/f, or f/m - the explicit m/m scenes all have Brian in them.)  Hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Sunshine. Warmth. Smiling people, milling. 

Not many changes on Liberty Avenue, Justin noted. Actually, he felt as though he had walked these streets only yesterday. 

He remembered. Remembered all too clearly. Here was where he had been standing when Brian caught his eyes that very first time. Here, they had kissed. Over there, that had been one of the many blowjobs he had given Brian. Here, Brian had held him tight as he braved the crowds for the first time after the bashing… 

Brian. His hero. He had forgotten all the other faces, the countless other bodies. But he remembered Brian. Always Brian. 

The roar of a motorbike interrupted his musings. A black Harley, custom painted with a picture in bold colors. Justin caught his breath. Rage. A portrait that made the super-hero look gentle, almost vulnerable. Definitely more approachable, more humane somehow. Justin couldn’t even remember drawing that. Where had the biker got hold of it? 

The Harley stopped a few feet ahead of him, and Justin watched appreciatively as the rider swung off the bike in one smooth motion. Facing away from Justin, he seemed to be scanning the street. 

It gave Justin an opportunity for a closer look. 

Black leather boots, sleek and shiny, with perfect heels. Brian had taught him to pay attention to such details. Long legs clad in soft black leather trousers that clung to the man like a second skin. Nice ass, Justin noted. Just as perfect as Brian’s ass had been. Supple black leather jacket, the collar turned up, with a rainbow-coloured dragon painted on the back. It fit perfectly, and Justin wondered whether it was actually tailored. The man was taller than he was, almost by a head. Nice hair, kept in shape and well looked after. Chestnut, with a few blond highlights. All of a sudden, he wanted to run his fingers through that hair and tousle it, like the breeze did just now.

Justin adjusted his kit-bag, about to go over and get a glimpse of the guy’s face, just to see whether the rest of him was as striking as he seemed from the back. But right then, the man’s stance relaxed.

Smiling brightly, a man pushed through the lunchtime crowd. As he approached, Justin felt the usual urge to draw, to capture that almost perfect face first in pencil, then in colour.

The blond, shoulder-length hair framed a strong tanned face accentuated with a beautiful narrow nose and high cheekbones, with large blue eyes sparkling under fine straight brows. Beautiful.

The biker tilted his head. The blonde’s full lips parted in a tender smile, and they met in a passionate embrace, followed by a long, hungry kiss. The scene brought on the familiar ache.

The ache intensified when the men turned to walk toward a new restaurant, arms around each other’s waist. Justin didn’t need to see the face now; only one man turned on his heel like that. 

Brian Kinney. 

Even more stunning than he had been a year ago. 

Justin grinned. The fling of the day, then. Since when did Brian treat his fucks to lunch? Normally, they were lunch. Either way, that would have to stop. About those rules – don’t fuck them twice, don’t kiss them, and be home by three a.m. And now another one, don’t wine and dine them, just fuck them and come home to me.

Justin tried to imagine Brian’s face if he walked into that restaurant now. The casual fuck forgotten, Brian would probably insist on dragging him off to the loft right away. The ride home on that hot bike could be considered extended foreplay…

Smirking, Justin was about to follow Brian when somebody grabbed his arm from behind. 

Without looking, Justin tried to shake the hand off. “Let go, dude, I’m not interested.”

“Nor am I,” Hunter chuckled. “Have a late lunch with me anyway?”

Justin turned with a smile. “Hi, Hunter. Long time no see. Sure, let’s go eat.” 

It might be even more fun to corner Brian at Babylon… after all, that was how he had planned it anyway.

Hunter pointed down the street. “The Diner okay with you?”

Thinking that Hunter probably had as little money as he himself did, Justin agreed readily. “Debbie still working there?”

“Sure, you know she loves the joint. She’s even happier now the new owner has raised their wages!”

“Raised their wages? Wow. She once told me she hadn’t had a raise in ten years.”

Hunter nodded. “They were all worried when old George decided to sell the place and move to Florida with his partner. The new owner is great, though. He closed the place for three days, had it renovated, new furniture put in and even installed an alarm system.”

“Sounds great. And in such a short time, too. Somebody we know?”

“Nope. Nobody’s even seen him. It’s all done by mail and text messages.” Hunter pushed the door open and let Justin go in first. 

“Mystery man, huh?” Justin stood and looked around for a moment. 

Obviously, the mystery man was queer, but tastefully so. The loud colours from the Seventies were gone, replaced by soft blues and purples, the walls painted a warm yellow, set off with decorations in purple, red and orange. It didn’t take long to see that the owner had somehow managed to incorporate the entire rainbow into his colour scheme, and at the same time had made the diner less trashy and more welcoming. Even the tacky lava lamps were gone. Some guy, Justin mused.

The place was packed.

“Sunshine! You’re back! Let’s look at you, baby!” 

Justin managed not to wince as Debbie pulled him into a fierce hug. He had forgotten that her voice took some getting used to.

“You’re so thin! We’ve got to feed you up. Come on, sit down! What are you waiting for? We’ve got just the thing for you on the menu. You’ll love it! Just wait and see!” 

Debbie paused for breath, smiling at him. “Good to have you home, Justin!”

“Thanks Debbie,” Justin smiled, genuinely happy for the first time in weeks. Months, even. “It’s good to be back.”

“Sit,” Debbie ordered, motioning them to a table that had just been vacated. Ignoring the protests from the men who had wanted to take that table, she sat opposite Justin. He exchanged a quick glance and a grin with Hunter, who didn’t seem to mind being snubbed by his adopted grandmother. 

Still without looking, Debbie smacked Hunter over the head. “Don’t you smirk at me, my boy. I’m too old for that. So, Sunshine, when did you get here?”

Justin chuckled, pushing his bag out of the way and realising how comfortable the new seats were. “You haven’t changed, Debbie. I got in earlier this morning.”

“And are you staying?” 

Debbie’s shrewd eyes made Justin want to squirm. “Yes. I’m not leaving Pittsburgh. Not ever again!”

“Famous last words,“ Hunter laughed. “Now you’ll tell us how terrible New York has been, just like Hollywood.”

Justin shrugged. “It’s not home. My family and friends are here, in Pittsburgh.”

Debbie shook her finger at him. “About time you realized that, boy. Make sure you remember it, now.”

“I will,” Justin sighed. 

Having mentioned family made him aware that he yet had to face his mother and her new husband. He hadn’t attended their wedding, and he had a feeling his mother was still angry with him. She had been quite cool every time they spoke on the phone.

“Well,” Debbie got up, “I’ll go get your food. It’s on the house! What will you have, Hunter?”

“The Greek salad, please. And a soda.”

“Greek salad?” Justin raised his brows. “Wow. This place has improved.”

Hunter nodded. “Told you. And everybody is just dying to meet the new proprietor.”

“So. Tell me, what else is new?”

Hunter shrugged. “What do you know?”

“Don’t know,” Justin sighed. “Brian stopped emailing me ages ago, and my mother isn’t exactly talkative these days. I chatted with Michael a few times, so I think I’m up to date about you, him and Ben. And I talked to Linds about Mel and the kids.”

“Thanks, Granny.” Hunter smiled at Debbie as she put his salad in front of him.

“Thanks, Debbie,” Justin echoed dutifully, eyeing his mountain of sausages, hash browns, and eggs with some dismay. He was never particularly hungry these days. Reluctantly, he picked up his fork.

“Let’s see. Debbie and Carl are still together, Emmett is living with Mr Right from Hazelhurst. Ted and Blake are together, and seem happy. Ever met Emmett’s guy?”

Justin tried to remember. “I don’t think so. What’s he like? Like Emmett?”

Hunter chuckled. “No, Calvin’s a total Bear. I never thought it would work, but they seem blissfully happy and very involved in each other. And I think it’s the first time in his life that Emmett has a decent income!”

“What’s he doing now?”

“He’s running the Rainbow Corner with Calvin, it’s a small shop that has all sorts of stuff for gays and lesbians, not just sex toys. They even have a small section with clothes, and Emmett has a ball with that. And they run a party service, too. The gayest parties you can’t imagine, that’s their slogan.”

“Who came up with that?”

“Why, Brian of course!” 

“Of course,” Justin grimaced. “I can’t imagine living with somebody and working with them all day.”

Hunter shrugged. “Depends on your personality, and your partner’s, I guess.”

They ate in silence for a while. Justin picked at his food and waited, watching Hunter chew delicately on an olive. Then, Hunter munched on a slice of tomato and next, a piece of cucumber.

“And?” Justin finally prompted.

Hunter looked up, a mischievous smile playing about his lips. “And what, Justin? Did I forget somebody?”

“Brian?” 

“Brian.” Hunter repeated. “Brian. Got an hour?”

Justin grinned. “I got all day.”

Hunter glanced at his watch. “Unfortunately, I don’t. So, I’ll make it short. Brian “The Torch” Kinney burns hotter than ever, is more successful than ever and has been in a disgustingly bright mood for the last five months or so. Everybody is meeting at his place for the Fourth of July. A week-long celebration! I guess they’ll invite you along, now that you’re back.”

Justin nodded. “What’s with the Harley?”

Hunter shrugged. “You’ve already seen that, have you? One of his many new toys. Wait till you see the palace!”

Justin bit his lip. If he had played his cards right, the so-called palace would now be his dream house as well, not just Brian’s. Well, it still could be. Brian would make changes, if he asked at the right moment. Like, just before taking him into his mouth.

“He’s got lots of new toys, then?”

“You just wait and see. Now, I’m sorry, but I gotta run. I’ll see you around, right?”

“Right. Say hi to Michael and Ben, and tell them I’ll drop by sometime.”

“You do that. Bye!”

Hunter left some money on the table and walked out.

Justin looked at his plate, and realized that he had to at least make a dent in the heap of food, otherwise Debbie would have something to say.

Sure enough, as if drawn by the thought, Debbie soon sat opposite him again, noisily chewing her gum. “So, Sunshine. What are your plans?”

Justin lifted his shoulders. “I’m not sure I have plans, just yet. I just needed to get away from New York.”

Debbie smiled knowingly. “Away from NY, or away from a guy?”

“A guy, I guess.”

“I see. Was he better than Brian?”

“Nobody’s as good as Brian.”

Debbie leaned back a little and raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “Then why didn’t you marry him?”

“I don’t know, really,” Justin said quietly. “It was too much, all of a sudden.”

Debbie tilted her head and studied him for a long moment, making Justin feel restless. “Be careful what you wish for, eh?”

“I suppose,” Justin mumbled. 

Nodding briskly, Debbie got to her feet. “Have you been to see your mother?”

Justin shook his head.

“Go and say hello. And apologize! Even Brian came to her wedding. She was hoping you’d turn up at the last minute, you know.”

“She should never have married Tucker. He’s twelve years younger than she is,” Justin insisted.

Debbie pursed her lips, tilting her head again. “Listen to yourself, Sunshine! You’re twelve years younger than Brian, and you didn’t mind that, now did you?”

“It’s wrong.”

“What’s the world coming to. Now the fags are prejudiced against us straight folks.” Debbie picked up the plates. “At this rate, I can see you camping out at my house again. Leave your bag here.”

“I’ll probably end up at Brian’s.”

“Don’t count on it, Sunshine. He might not even remember you.”

Justin laughed. “He’ll always remember me!”

“Maybe. But maybe not for the reasons you’d like. If you want to stay with me, pick me up at the end of my shift.”

Justin nodded and got to his feet, kissing Debbie lightly on the cheek. “Thanks for lunch, Debbie.”

 

Listening to the melodious chimes, Justin shifted from foot to foot. This wasn’t as easy as he had thought. 

“Well, well. If it isn’t the prodigal son. Come on in.” Tucker gestured to the hallway behind him.

It had to be him answering the door, hadn’t it. Just seeing the jerk’s long hair and cheerful grin made his stomach churn.

“Who is it, Tuck?” His mother came down the stairs, casually clad in beige slacks and a pink blouse. She wore her hair differently, still long, but cut into feathery strands. It was lighter, too, Justin noted, more like his own hair. It made her look some ten or twelve years younger. Well, she needed to work on that, didn’t she.

“Hi Mom. You look great.”

Justin wondered whether he’d be able to capture that expression on paper later, this mixture of surprise, anger and delight. An expression rather reserved for mothers, he thought.

Jennifer hugged him. “I’m happy to see you, and I could kill you. Why weren’t you at our wedding?”

Behind her back, Tucker rolled his eyes at him. “Why don’t you let your son sit down first? Want something to drink, Justin?”

Justin returned his mother’s embrace, and nodded at Tucker. “Thanks, I could do with something fizzy.”

Jennifer ushered him into the living room, and gestured at a chair. “Sit. Sit, and tell me what you’re doing here, and how long you plan on staying. And you’ve lost so much weight!”

Justin plopped gracelessly into the chair and watched her as she shook up the throw cushions and straightened the table. 

I’m not at home here, he realized. Not anymore. If he were, she’d not bother about such things. 

Well, he planned on living with Brian, anyway.

“You’re not saying anything,” Jennifer said.

“I was waiting for you to stop talking and sit down,” Justin grinned.

Jennifer shook her head and smiled, but settled on the couch. “So. Start talking!”

Tucker came in just then, carrying a tray with drinks and a plate of biscuits. He set the tray on the table. “I’ll go back to grading those papers. You want me to phone Judson and tell him something came up?”

Jennifer glanced at her watch and shook her head. “No, it’s too late for that. Knowing Judson, they probably started cooking dinner already.”

Tucker shrugged and left the room.

“I’m sorry, Justin. But it really is too late to back out of the invitation now.”

“No worries, Mom. I’ve got plans, too. Besides, I should’ve let you know I was coming, but it was a rather spontaneous decision.”

His mother sighed. “Your spontaneous decisions are often bad decisions.”

Justin shrugged. “I know. But this was the right decision. I couldn’t stay with Tim any longer.”

Jennifer pushed back a loose strand of hair. “What went wrong?”

“He cheated on me.”

“They all do, sooner or later.” Jennifer frowned. “You left the one man who wouldn’t have.”

Justin laughed. “Do you really think Brian would have stuck by it?”

“Yes,” Jennifer said emphatically, “I know he would have. Once you had his word, you could have relied on it.”

“Whatever. We’ll see about that when I get him back.”

“Get him back? You want to get Brian back? Again? What makes you think you can?”

“He loves me,” Justin said comfortably.

 

Two hours later, Justin had left the house, saying he wanted to hook up with some friends. Jennifer and Tucker were in the car, on the way to their dinner invitation.

Jennifer was still fuming. “Can you believe it? He thinks he can just waltz into Pittsburgh, snap his fingers and have Brian come to heel.”

Tucker chortled. “That’s one priceless image, Jen. Brian of all people.”

Jennifer snorted angrily. “How did I manage to bring up such a conceited little bastard?”

“Don’t shoot me for saying this, but that might have been Brian’s influence. For all I know, he was far too obvious in his adoration for your pretty son.”

“He was,” Jennifer said thoughtfully. “But nobody ever noticed. Least of all, Justin.”

“I don’t follow you,” Tucker said.

Jennifer shrugged. “Brian has everybody fooled into thinking that he doesn’t do emotions, he doesn’t do relationships, and he doesn’t give a shit about anybody but Brian Kinney. Justin didn’t believe it, not to start off with. But Brian’s dear friends filled his head with all the nonsense they themselves believe, and in the end, Justin felt like they do.”

Tucker sighed. “Are you going to tell Brian that Justin is back?”

Jennifer shot him a sidelong glance. “You don’t honestly believe I’d let Brian just bump into him on Liberty Avenue, do you?”

“I guess not. How do you think Brian will react?”

“Not at all, if I know Brian. He’ll pretend he’s cool with it; but he’ll have ‘that look’ for days.”

“What look is that?”

“The look he had when I told him to stay away from Justin. The look he had when they told us the wedding was off. A bruised look, a look as though he can’t sleep without having bad dreams.”

“You love Brian.”

“Yes. Right now, I love him far more than Justin. So help me, I’d even choose him over Justin! I don’t want him to hurt Brian again. For five years, he’s done nothing else, and now that Brian has finally found peace, he has to come back and destroy it.”

Tucker sighed. “If it’s real peace, and if this is what Brian wants, he won’t let anybody take it away from him. If Justin can break them up, it wasn’t right to begin with.”

“You’ve thought about that a lot, haven’t you.”

“I love Brian, too. And if your son hurts him again, I’ll help you kill him.”

Jennifer smiled. “It’s a deal. Have I mentioned that I love you, Tuck?”

“Not recently, honey.”

“I’ll make up for it when we get home.”

Tucker smiled, and turned into the driveway. “Hold on to that thought, sweetheart!”

 

Judson opened the door and enthusiastically hugged first Jennifer, then Tucker. “Hi guys. Come in quick, I left Brian alone in the kitchen.”

“Isn’t he cute,” Brian said, joining them. “He thinks I can’t cook.”

“You can’t.”

“Can, too.”

“Can’t. Boiling water doesn’t count.”

“I’m insulted. You won’t see me in your kitchen again.”

“Is that a promise?”

Brian grinned devilishly. “Yes.”

“Damn,” Judson laughed. “I fell for that one, didn’t I.”

“Sure did,” Brian said.

Jennifer shook her head. “So you get out of cleaning up again.”

“Right,” Brian grinned. “Come on, Jen, Tuck, you’ve got to taste the wine. It’s a Brunello di Montalcino, and we’ve been arguing about it all day.”

Tucker sighed. “What’s to argue? That’s a great wine.”

“I think it goes with the Filet Mignon we’re having, and Judson doesn’t. If you don’t like it, I can offer you an Italian Merlot, or a Montepulciano. Actually, the Montepulciano might be something for you, Jennifer.”

Jennifer shook her head. “I’ll let you decide, Brian. You’re the wine aficionado.”

The wine proved wonderful, the food fantastic, and the company as enjoyable as ever. 

Jennifer loved spending time with Brian, now that she had learned to appreciate his sharp humour, and the warm heart he cloaked with it.

The three men entered into a lively discussion about the advantages of the Brunello versus the Merlot, and Jennifer used the moment to observe Brian unnoticed. 

Hazel eyes bright, without the shadows Justin had caused. The full lips, turned up at the corners just so, as though Brian Kinney found life perpetually amusing. When she first met Brian, his melancholy and acid wit had made her think he was in his thirties, but now that he actually was, his enthusiasm and vivacity made him seem younger than his years. Brian wore white jeans and a pale blue silk shirt, and he looked great. Better than great. 

Brian slanted a look at her, and smiled. “Shut up, guys. We’re boring Jennifer out of her mind.”

“You’re not,” Jennifer protested.

“How can you tell?” Tucker asked at the same time.

Brian smirked. “She’s eyeing me up. That’s how.”

Tucker raised his eyebrows at her. “Do you have to be so obvious about it?”

Jennifer knew they were only teasing her, but she felt a blush creep into her cheeks nonetheless.

Judson rolled his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re not conceited, Brian. You’d be hard to live with.”

“I’m always hard,” Brian shot back.

“Too much information,” Tucker protested, feigning disgust.

Brian just grinned. “I need a cigarette.”

“And I need some air,” Jennifer got to her feet as Brian pulled back her chair.

“Which leaves us to clean the table,” Tucker said resignedly.

“As always,” Judson added.

Brian put an arm around Jennifer’s shoulders. “That tells you girls who is boss around the house.”

Judson and Tucker exchanged a look and laughed. “You keep on believing that.”

 

Jennifer took a deep breath as they stepped into the cool night. “The garden looks lovely.”

“You can’t see the garden,” Brian sounded amused. “It’s too dark.”

As soon as they started to walk, the movement detectors lit small lanterns hidden in the shrubbery, bathing the path in a soft yellow glow.

Brian held out his cigarette case. “Smoke?”

Jennifer shook her head and watched as Brian lit up. She loved the way he moved. Small wonder Justin always had wanted to capture Brian on paper. But even his very best efforts never even came close to the real beauty of the man.

She held on to Brian’s free arm and wondered how to broach what had to be a very sore subject.

“Just say it already, Jen.”

She looked up, startled to find the hazel eyes scrutinising her in the dim light.

“Say what?”

Brian shrugged. “You’ve been watching me all evening. You tried to make small-talk about the fucking garden. And now you’re holding on to me, not saying a word. You only do that when you have something to say that I won’t want to hear. So, tell me.”

“You’re very perceptive, Brian.”

“Yes. Perceptive is my middle name, everybody knows that. And you’re stalling.”

Jennifer sighed. There was no easy way to break the news. “Justin is back.”

Brian stopped for a split second, but immediately resumed walking. Jennifer saw him swallow, and wished she could take his pain away.

Brian cleared his throat. “To stay?”

Jennifer nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear New York didn’t pan out.”

She waited, thinking there would be questions, or maybe accusations. Nothing. Brian said nothing.

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

Brian turned his head and looked at her, his eyes guarded, the handsome face the cool mask he always showed the world. “What do you expect me to say? That I wish he hadn’t left? That I wanted nothing more than to make it work? You know all that. I couldn’t stop him from leaving, and if he wants to come back to Pittsburgh, there’s nothing I can do about that, either. There’s nothing to say, Jennifer.”

“Brian…” 

But really, she knew there weren’t any words. If Brian Kinney ever cried, he did it where nobody would see.

“Thanks for telling me. It might have been awkward if we had walked into him unexpectedly.”

Jennifer nodded, and they walked back to the house in silence. She couldn’t make up her mind whether it was a comfortable silence, or not.

“You go on in, Jen. I forgot to see to the horses. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Jennifer went into the kitchen, where Tucker was helping Judson tidy up.

“Where’s Bri?”

“Checking on the horses,” Jennifer said. “I told him that Justin is back.”

Judson blinked twice, the only indication he was surprised. He was almost as good at fooling people as Brian was. “I see. How is he?”

“Fine,” Jennifer said, wondering whether they were talking about Brian or Justin.

 

Brian walked into the stables, breathing deeply of hay and warm animal. The cat jumped down from his spot and coiled around his legs.

Brian bent and picked him up, pressing his cheek into the warm silky fur for a long moment.

Justin. Back.

Brian knew there would be more dreams. 

Whenever he slept alone – and often enough even when he didn’t – he dreamt of Justin. 

I’m fucking addicted to you, he thought angrily. Fuck. Did you have to come back? I was getting over you. 

I was.

Well. Maybe not. But I was getting used to it, settling into a routine. I had peace.

And yet… fuck peace. If I can have you… if only I could have you.

Gently, Brian put the cat back into his basket.

Whom was he fooling anyway. 

The familiar fever was already rushing through his veins.

 

“Coffee, anybody?” Brian offered, entering the kitchen. 

“Yes, great,” Tucker said. 

It always amazed Jennifer that he could drink coffee at any hour, and still was able to sleep. She knew Brian could.

Brian ground coffee beans and poured filtered water into the percolator. “Judson? What about you?”

Judson shot him a quick look, and Jennifer thought there was a moment of wordless communication she couldn’t interpret. 

“Sure,” Judson said. “Jennifer?”

She nodded. “Yes, please.” 

She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, anyway.

Brian set saucers and cups on a tray, and Judson brought spoons and sugar. Brian added cream to the collection, and then poured the steaming liquid into the cups.

Jennifer suppressed her smile. It was sweet to see Brian so domesticated, and she loved the way he and Judson meshed. She remembered a time when Brian drank his coffee straight from the carafe, and sugar cubes would have been added to your cup by tossing them across the table. The milk would have splashed into your cup, on your saucer and sometimes on your clothes.

Brian carried the tray into the living area and put it on the coffee table. 

He settled on the sofa, with that faraway look in his eyes that told Jennifer he was already hurting again, without even having seen Justin yet. Damn her stupid kid.

Judson sat next to Brian and draped an arm across his shoulders, but didn’t pull him close. He usually did, but Jennifer thought he didn’t want to intrude into Brian’s world today.

She exchanged a glance with Tucker, and there was that little crease between his brows that said he was worried. His eyes returned to Brian, who didn’t seem to notice the lack of conversation.

Tucker leaned forward and poured a spot of milk first into Judson’s cup and then into his own. He stirred and handed the cup to Judson, who took it with a nod and a thin smile. He added a liberal amount of milk to Brian’s cup and two lumps of sugar to hers, and picked up Brian’s cup.

“Brian. Coffee.”

Brian blinked, as if startled. “Right. Thanks.” He accepted the proffered cup and smiled at Tucker.

Jennifer took her own cup, and looked across at Judson. 

His hair fell forward in a curtain of silk, and he looked stunning in his brown suede shirt with matching trousers. The sapphire eyes were trained on Brian, and she marvelled at the fierce expression in the normally gentle face.

“About next week,” Tucker said. “Would you rather we didn’t turn up?”

Brian gave him a surprised look. “Of course not. Why?”

“Justin. If we don’t come, he can be with us, rather than appear here with Debbie.”

Brian looked at Judson, who had already schooled his expression back to neutral.

“Are you okay with him coming here?”

“He’s not my ex,” Judson said evenly.

Brian’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not what I asked. And it’s not why I asked.”

Judson sighed, and pulled Brian closer, kissing him gently. He studied him for a moment, and Jennifer wondered what he saw in those suddenly dark orbs.

Brian raised a mobile eyebrow. “Well?”

“Fine with me,” Judson said. “I don’t have a problem with it.”

Brian shrugged, settling back into his former position. “I don’t need to avoid Justin, and I don’t want to. If he wants to tag along, he’s welcome to.”

Jennifer silently sipped her coffee, wondering whether that was really an inspired notion. 

Then again, maybe they thought there’d be safety in numbers? After all, there was going to be quite a gathering, as they had invited all members of their extended family. And that meant Debbie and Carl, and now Justin. Lindsay and Melanie were coming from Toronto with the kids. Daphne and her boyfriend. Emmett and Ted with their respective partners, Michael, Ben and Hunter. Leda. Judson’s friends, Dave with Ken; and Jim. Molly, Tucker, and herself.

“Where is everybody going to sleep?”

Brian grinned. “The stables.”

Jennifer raised her brows. “The stables,” she repeated.

“Sure. We’ve got plenty of hay to go around.”

Judson poked Brian in the ribs. “Scamp. Brian has added rooms above the stables, Jen. Want to go over and take a look?”

“Not me,” Tucker said, stretching. “I can wait till next week.”

“Sure,” Jennifer got up. “You coming, Brian?” 

“Not now,” Brian said, “But given the right incentive, that can change quickly.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “How do you live with the constant innuendo, Judson?”

Judson grinned. “I take him up on it. I haven’t had so much sex since I was sixteen!”

“Sad,” Brian muttered. “More coffee, Tucker?”

“Sure, and how about some of that grass you were talking about?”

 

“And that means I get to drive us home. Again.”

Judson laughed softly. “And I get to tuck Brian into bed. Some things never change.”

“Aren’t you worried about the drugs?”

“No. Brian is actually cutting back. It’s ages since he took any E.”

“You’re good for him, Judson.”

Judson frowned. “Am I good enough?”

“Now, what’s that supposed to mean? You’re lovely together.”

Judson shrugged, taking her around the house to a new staircase leading up to the first floor above the stables. The staircase was a new addition, and yet, the building materials and the way it hugged the stables made it look as if it had been built at the same time as the house.

Judson saw her appreciative look and smiled. “Brian should have been an architect. And an interior designer.”

Jennifer nodded. “He is a man of many talents.”

“Yes,” Judson sighed. “He’s also a man who can be hurt with one careless word.”

“What’s bothering you, Judson? You’re not yourself tonight.”

Judson preceded her up the stairs, and unlocked a door that looked ancient. 

Astonished, Jennifer climbed the rest of the stairs and studied the door, running her fingers over the gleaming surface. There was an intricate carved design of a herd of galloping horses, and the hinges, the lock and the handle were heavy brass.

“That door is 150 years old. Brian found it at an auction. It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

“It’s breath-taking,” Jennifer said admiringly. “When does Brian find time to go to auctions? I thought he had his hands full, running three businesses.”

“Five, by now,” Judson said. “I don’t know. I only have two jobs, and they take all my energy. I have no idea how Brian does it.”

“You're worried about Brian. Why?”

Judson shrugged, leading her into the first room on the right. 

It was a beautiful room, featuring a large double bed and Brian’s trademark design – cream coloured materials for curtains and cushions, dark wood furniture with a bit of chrome and glass thrown in. The result was a subtle classy elegance. Jennifer had always thought Bauhaus was a cold, cumbersome style, but Brian managed to create a gorgeous home with it. His impeccable taste made her slightly jealous.

Judson dropped into the Chesterfield chair, and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m uncomfortable about next week. I thought things would be difficult enough with Melanie around, and Debbie always takes her side because of JR. Michael doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. And now we’re adding Justin to the mix… I just see endless possibilities of Brian getting hurt. And I’m so damn fed up with that look in his eyes!”

Jennifer took the chair next to him, surprised that the odd-looking little thing was so comfy. “Would you rather I keep Justin away?”

Judson shook his head. “I don’t tell Brian what to do. He says he doesn’t want to avoid Justin, so we won’t. But you could do me a favor… if you don’t mind.”

“Sure. Name it.”

“When… when Brian and Justin first meet, would you help me run interference?”

Jennifer frowned. “What do you mean?”

Judson sighed. “You know his friends. Especially Melanie. Michael, Ted. Even Debbie. They all lean on Brian; they all run to him when they need something. At the same time, they all wait for him to stumble. Everybody knows what went on between Justin and Brian. They’re all going to be like hyenas, waiting for Brian to burst into tears, or have a cow. Any reaction will do.”

“You’re right. I’ve often wondered why he’s friends with them. Some of the remarks they make about Brian, or even to him… they give me the shivers. How do you think Brian will react?”

“If you can predict one thing about Brian, it’s that he’s unpredictable. I have no idea. To be frank, if I were in his place, I’d kick Justin’s teeth in.”

Jennifer grinned. “Need help?”

“Fuck. I keep forgetting you’re his mother. I apologize, Jennifer. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No worries. When Justin turned up earlier on, I felt like that myself.”

“So.” Judson hesitated. “You don’t understand the dynamics between them either?”

“No, I don’t.” Jennifer shook her head. “I’m not sure they themselves ever understood them. Justin is not particularly introspective, and Brian always kept his thoughts to himself. All I know is that Brian was amazingly patient, and very supportive. Not at all the cold, heartless shit he likes to pretend he is. He gave Justin whatever he needed.”

Judson nodded. “What did Justin give Brian?”

“A constant headache, and at the end, a stake through the heart,” Jennifer sighed.

Judson winced. “Damn. Now I’m tempted to tell Brian what to do.”

“But you won’t.”

“Brian hates people who tell him no. I don’t want him to hate me.”

Jennifer got to her feet, suddenly sharing Judson’s misgivings. “I’ll do whatever I can, I promise.”

“You’re a darling.” Judson stood and hugged her, then cleared his throat. “Want to see the rest?”

“Sure,” Jennifer agreed. “How come we didn’t notice the work going on when we were here?”

“You know Brian. He hates noise. The workers got here after we’d left, and were gone when we came back. Andrea did a marvellous job at supervising them.”

“I’m glad he found a decent housekeeper at last.”

“And she doesn’t steal stuff, either. That’s really nice.”

Jennifer laughed. “I bet. Brian was so pissed when the last one took the stereo!”

“It’s tempting, that’s obvious,” Judson shrugged. “But Brian does pay them a bomb, and he’s a great boss, so I don’t get it. I’d rather keep a good job.”

Remembering that the stables below held six spaces for horses, plus ample room for saddles and tools, and a huge storage area for bales of hay and sacks of horse food, Jennifer was not surprised that they had managed to make the most of the space they had up here. The ten rooms weren’t particularly large, but the furniture made them cosy and welcoming. Generous windows would flood the rooms with light in the daytime, but as the building was facing west, the rooms wouldn’t become too warm for comfort. 

Jennifer laughed when she saw the signs adorning the three bathroom doors. “Gay guys, straight guys, gals,” she read out loud. “The drawings are terrific. I’d like to have something like that for the front door, and our bathroom doors. Where the hell did he get those?”

“Self-made. Brian did the drawings, and had them printed and laminated at the office. Now everybody is begging for their own door plates, so far to no avail. But he might oblige you.”

“I never knew he could draw.”

Judson shrugged. “He took art classes at college, that’s how he met Lindsay. She said he had a sure eye and a deft stroke of the brush or pencil.”

Jennifer nodded. “I can see that. How can you say so much with so few lines?”

“That’s Brian. One line speaks volumes.”

 

They could hear Brian’s and Tucker’s animated voices as they went back into the main building.

“… so that’s why I want Gus to attend a private school,” Brian was saying. “I don’t care about the fucking money. I just want my kids to have the best education possible, and I didn’t like the look of that community school Lindsay dragged us to. Life is difficult enough for Gus; he doesn’t need to encounter prejudice on top of that.”

“From what I hear, there still is plenty of prejudice here at private schools, like the St. James Academy.”

“That’s not the students, that’s the faculty. You need to educate the teachers before you can educate the kids. That private school in Toronto actually does have a staff that believes in tolerance and liberty.”

“You’ve spoken to the staff?”

“Sure. I didn’t want Gus to go there and later find out that the teachers can’t be bothered, and the principal is a bigoted idiot.”

Jennifer knew the comment was in no way directed at her, but she cringed.

Tucker laughed. “I bet that went down well – two mothers for one kid, and then the father turns up in full Spanish Inquisition mode!”

Brian chuckled. “They accepted Gus, that’s all I really care about.”

“They accepted Gus, a very large donation and Brian’s proposal for an ad campaign for the school,” Judson said smoothly.

“Bribery, in other words,” Jennifer said.

“Bribery. That’s such an ugly word. I prefer to think of it as an exchange of capabilities.”

“Running an ad campaign for free is one big chunk of capability,” Tucker said.

“Yes. But really, through the school ad, I’m marketing Kinnetik’s capabilities in Toronto.”

Speechless, Jennifer stared at Brian. “You plan on expanding to Canada?”

“The only thing that doesn’t get to expand around here is my waistline. Everything else is subject to change without notice.” Brian looked smug.

“Why Canada?” Tucker asked.

“Gus. Melanie has started to complain that we turn up too often. She can’t say anything if I’m there on business.”

“So,” Jennifer said slowly. “You expand your business just so you can drop in on your kid?”

Brian shrugged. “When they were still living in the Burgh, it was taken as a given that I’d turn up whenever the fancy struck. I guess Melanie felt that moving to Canada would keep them out of my reach.”

Tucker snorted. “What will you do if they decide to move to Alaska?”

“Start advertising in Anchorage, for the People Mover, petroleum and the Iditarod,” Brian replied coolly.

 

“I was beginning to think they’d never leave,” Judson said, running his lips down Brian’s throat.

“I offered Tucker a room,” Brian murmured. “But he didn’t want it.”

“Heteros seem to prefer their own beds,” Judson grinned.

“Which bed do you prefer?”

“Any bed that has you in it,” Judson smiled.

“That can be arranged.”

Thank god – and I still don’t believe in you, don’t get me wrong! – for sex. At least I can sleep after, Brian thought.


	2. Two

Carl pulled into the driveway, and stopped behind a grey sedan.

“Looks like we’re not the first to arrive,” Debbie observed.

“Do you know the cars?” Justin asked.

“This grey car belongs to Ted and Blake,” Carl explained. “That disreputable pink one is Calvin’s. The green wheels belong to Hunter, but he’s still at work, so Michael and Ben must have borrowed the car. The black SUV probably belongs to Mel and Linds.”

“I bet they’re all sitting at the pool, talking,” Debbie said.

They got out, and Carl opened the trunk so they could retrieve their bags.

Just then, a Kawasaki roared past them and fishtailed to a stop in front of the garage, with a showy jet of gravel spurting forth. The biker took off her helmet and shook out her long dark hair just as the doors opened and a blond man came out. Justin didn’t recognize the woman from the back, but the man was the one Brian had kissed so eagerly on Liberty Avenue.

So, this was Judson. 

He still didn’t know why his mother and her new husband had been invited to dinner that evening. But from what his mother had said when they met for lunch two days ago, they were rather close to both Brian and Judson. Huh. Things certainly had changed. He’d been gone for too long, Justin thought uneasily.

Meanwhile, Judson had grabbed the woman around the waist and hugged her tightly.

“Leda. Glad you made it, babe!”

Leda grinned widely. “What, are you all alone with the callous cannibals? Where’s Bri?”

Judson shrugged. “I guess something came up. I was just about to phone the office.”

Leda untied a small bag from the back of her bike. “Go on, then. He said he’d be here by two.”

Justin, Debbie, and Carl quietly crept to the passenger’s side of their car, leaving the bags on the ground. Leda and Judson would see them only if they turned.

Judson glanced at his watch and pulled out his cell from the back pocket of the black jeans he wore. He dialed. 

“Cynthia? Is that you? Wait, I can’t hear a thing, I’ll have to put you on loudspeaker.” Judson pressed a button. “Where is he?”

“Just a sec, Judson, Brian wants me.”

Before Judson could react, Brian’s angry voice filtered over the speaker. “You’re a complete asshole, Mark. You’re also fired. Hunter, please escort this jerk off the premises.”

“Wait,” another man’s voice said. “I need to get my stuff.”

“We’ll mail it to you,” Brian said coldly. “Now, get out.”

“And what about my pay?”

“You want paying? What for? Surfing the net on my time? Contracting the virus that destroyed all the files for the fucking jeans ad?” 

A chair scraped across the floor and Brian continued in a raised voice, “Get the fuck out, before I throw you out!”

There were hurried footsteps and the closing of a door before Brian asked, “When’s the fucking ad due?”

Cynthia’s voice replied, “Today. And you just fired the last art director; everybody else has left for the weekend.”

“What do I look like, the Xerox machine?” Brian sounded testy, and Justin grinned.

“You look like sex on legs, but I thought you were about to leave,” Cynthia replied.

“I’m not leaving. Get me yesterday’s backups.”

Quick footsteps, the opening of a drawer, sounds of shuffling. 

Then, Cynthia’s voice, softly. “Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Double fuck.”

“I’d oblige you,” Brian drawled, “But I don’t do gals.”

A deep sigh from Cynthia. “Brian. Mark hasn’t turned in any backups. Not since last week.”

 

A pause; and Judson exchanged a frown with Leda, who mouthed, “What’s with her?” 

Judson shook his head.

 

“Brian, I’m sorry. I should have asked for the backups, but I clean forgot. I fucked up.” 

Cynthia sounded close to tears, and Justin winced in sympathy. He could just imagine the look on Brian’s face. 

Apparently, so could Judson and Leda, if the look they shared was anything to go by.

“Yes, you did.” Brian sounded suddenly very calm. “But I’m far more interested in why you fucked up. You haven’t been yourself since you took your mother to the doctor’s last week.”

Cynthia’s answer was lost in burst of static. 

“Come into my office,” Brian said. “Hunter, could you pop over to the coffee shop and get me a large Latte and a cappuccino for Cynthia? Get something for yourself, and ask Vic whether he’s thirsty.”

“Sure,” Hunter said readily. “Salads for lunch?”

Brian sighed. “I guess. It’s going to be a longer day than I expected.”

As Hunter’s footsteps fell away, Brian said, “Let’s have it, Cynthia.”

“I’m sorry, Brian. I’ll have to give you my notice.” Cynthia still sounded close to tears.

There was a moment of silence, and then Brian said, “I’ll double their offer.”

A startled sound from Cynthia. “Oh, Brian! You idiot! That’s not it at all. I don’t want to leave, really. Only, I have to.”

Brian sounded as though he were frowning when he replied. “Start over. Why do you have to leave?”

“My mother,” Cynthia was crying now. “It’s Alzheimer’s. I have to look after her.”

“Have to, or want to?”

“Have to. I can’t afford a home for her, not with Jesse’s school fees. And I can’t leave her alone at all anymore. The other day she wanted to make herself some tea, but she forgot to put water into the kettle. It was lucky the neighbor came by and noticed.”

“Do you enjoy working here?”

“God, yes. I love it. I’d never leave, Brian. The work is as hot and exciting as you are, and I love what I’m doing.”

“Thanks,” Brian said wryly. “You just say the sweetest things. Where’s your mother now?”

Another sob from Cynthia, and Judson shook his head at Leda, who had made a cut-throat gesture to indicate he should hang up.

“So help me, Brian, I’ve got her tied to the bed, with the door to her room locked. Normally, I get the neighbor to look after her, but my salary isn’t in yet, and I couldn’t afford to pay her today.”

“Fuck,” Brian said softly. Some rustling, and then Brian’s voice again. “Here, go home and get that neighbor to take care of your mother. I’d tell you to stay home, but I do need your help with the jeans ad.”

“That’s too much, Brian.”

“Take it; it’s just bits of green paper. Come on, take it.”

“Brian… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing, Cynth. Now, listen to me. Are you listening?”

“I’m listening,” Cynthia said in a small voice.

“Okay. For you to know you can’t afford the home, you’ve looked at something and liked it, yes?”

Cynthia must have nodded, because Brian continued, “Take your mother there; have them issue her an account number so we don’t have to use names. Schmidt doesn’t need to know about this. Kinnetik will cover your mother’s health care and pay for the home. Consider it an incentive.”

“Brian, you can’t do that,” Cynthia protested. “She’s only 64, she could live forever!”

“Let’s hope she does,” Brian said softly. “I know how much you love your mother.”

“God, Brian!” 

It sounded as though Cynthia had flung herself at Brian, because there was a softly startled sound from him that reminded Justin of… well. He felt himself growing hard at the memory.

“Am I interrupting something,” Hunter said cheerfully. “Should Judson know about this?”

“Judson!” Cynthia exclaimed, hurried footsteps, and then the line went dead.

 

Judson laughed, and Leda shook her head.

Judson dialed again. “Hi again, Cynth. What’s going on?”

“I’ve no time to talk, wait a sec, I’ll put you through.”

Static, and Judson groaned. “What the hell is happening?”

Hunter’s voice, “Fuck, Brian, that jerk messed with our firewall. I have to take the entire damn network apart. That virus will get into any computer that’s switched on.”

“Beautiful,” Brian said. “Disconnect mine first, so I can get to work. Then do Cynthia’s, the rest after.”

“Okay,” Hunter said, “But you know we also have the phones running via the network, right?”

Brian sighed. “Just say it, Hunter.”

“Well, the only phone that’ll work is Cynthia’s, because she’s not on the network. All the other phones will be dead until I can set up again.”

“No biggie. I’ve got my cell, and we don’t need the other phones. Hop to it, I want to get home sometime today.”

Hunter laughed. “You’d better, or Judson will ream you a new one.”

“Huh,” Brian muttered. “Cynth?”

“She’s gone,” somebody said quietly. “I saw her get in her car.”

“Never mind,” Brian said. “Vic, do you know where those jeans are? Could you go get them for me?”

“I can do that,” the voice that must belong to Vic replied.

“Thanks,” Brian said gently.

“You ought to eat something,” Vic said. “You haven’t eaten all day.”

“I got a salad, I’m fine,” Brian said, sounding as though he were smiling.

“Don’t just look at it then, eat it,” Vic said vaguely, his voice moving away.

Hunter chuckled. “He’s watching you like a hawk.”

“Yes,” Brian said, crinkling plastic indicating he’d opened his salad. “Takes some getting used to.”

“Why? Most everybody watches you like that,” Hunter yawned. “Here, you’re ready to go.”

“Long night?”

“Sort of. But not what you think. We were just talking.”

“Talking,” Brian scoffed. “Talking is for geezers. At your age, you’re supposed to fuck all night.”

“You’re the only person who’s worried I’m not getting enough, you know that? Ben and Michael always tell me not to fuck around.”

“Yeah, and what do they know?”

“Nothing,” Hunter sniffed. “That’s why I’m discussing my sex life with you, and not with them.”

“Good thinking,” Brian said approvingly, and they both laughed.

“I’ll go set up Cynthia’s computer. Is she coming back?”

“She’d better,” Brian said. “If I have to do this on my own, I’ll go crazy.”

Footsteps indicated Hunter was leaving, and for a while there was silence, interrupted by the occasional clicks that said somebody was on the computer.

 

Judson and Leda exchanged worried looks and shrugs.

 

More footsteps. 

“Here’s the jeans,” Vic said. “And earlier, you asked about the jackets, so I brought them as well.”

Brian sighed. “Let’s have a look then.”

Bags crinkled, garments rustled. “Dear god in heaven, what possessed me to accept that job? Who’d possibly want to wear something like that?”

“I would,” Hunter said. “I can’t afford Armani just yet. Besides, I think they’re cool.”

“Cool? You think they’re cool? Fine. Here,” they could hear the offending garment being tossed across the room, “Put them on. You’ve just volunteered to model them for me.”

“Can I try them on, too?”

“Where did you get your fashion sense? Here, Vic, these should fit you.”

“Oh, they’re great! Can I have a pair?” Cynthia sounded genuinely excited.

“What’s with you guys? You all look like you got your ass where your knees should be. I fail to see the attraction.”

“I guess you’re just too much of a geezer for these,” Hunter said teasingly.

“No,” Vic said calmly, “He’s too vain.”

“Thanks, Vic. I simply prefer clothes that don’t make me look like I’m deformed.”

“So, what do you think, Hunter?” Cynthia asked. “I won’t ask you, Brian. You’ve made your opinion abundantly clear.”

“I think you look great,” Hunter said honestly, and Brian made a retching sound.

“Please. You want me to puke? God, and I have to try and sell these! Who the fuck made the pitch?”

“You did,” Cynthia giggled.

“Shit. I must’ve been drunk. Or momentarily manic.” Brian sighed. “Okay, guys, go stand in front of the wall over there.”

“Wait,” Cynthia said, “I’m your assistant, not your model.”

“I changed the job description. You can sue on Monday. Today, you go get your indiscernible butt over there.”

Cynthia sighed, and Hunter said, “Come on, Cynth, it won’t hurt. Much.”

They could hear somebody setting up some equipment, and Justin guessed it was Brian positioning the camera for the shot.

“Fuck. There’s no way these can be made to look good. Where are those jackets, Vic?”

“Over there, in the stripy bag.”

Rustling, and Brian muttering under his breath.

“Here, blue for you, Vic. Green for Hunter, and red for Cynthia. Put them on.”

“You can see us coming for miles,” Vic sounded unhappy.

“That’s what clothes are for. To be seen. Only Ted Schmidt dresses so as to become the invisible man. You look great, Vic. And you can take the jacket back off straight after, if you want to. Okay?”

“Okay,” Vic said reluctantly. “If you say so.”

“Cynthia, you face me; boys, on either side of Cynthia, face the wall. Put your arms around her waist. No, from the front, Vic. Good. Now, turn your heads and look at Cynthia. Cynth, you look at me. Come on, look at me as if I were straight.”

Cynthia laughed. “Can’t I just look at you as if you were available?”

“Whatever floats your boat, Cynth. Okay, hold it… yes!”

The camera clicked then, and Brian said, “Okay, now, Cynthia, you face the wall, boys, you look at me.”

“As though you were available?” Hunter said, laughing. 

Brian chortled. “Wait. Cynth, Vic, you look at each other, put your arms around each other. Not you, Hunter. Just stand close. Yes, good. Now, for that look, Hunter… great!”

“Are we done?” Vic sounded decidedly unhappy. 

“Give me a sec to check the shot,” Brian said, and a few moments later, “Yes, that’s it. We’re good! You can get out of those jeans now, Vic.”

“It’s not the jeans, it’s the jacket.”

Cynthia and Hunter laughed, and Brian sounded exasperated. “Right. I wouldn’t be caught dead in those trous. The jacket is actually quite okay.”

“Where do you want us to put them, Brian?”

Brian scoffed. “If you like them all that much, keep them.”

“Does that mean we can wear them to the office?”

“Just warn me in advance. I don’t want to go blind if I come upon you unexpectedly,” Brian sounded distracted. 

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning up the background,” Brian replied. “I’m sure I had a photo with some ultramodern construction… yes, here it is.”

“Wow, that looks great,” Cynthia said. “What about our faces?”

“Wait. How about… this? And then we change your hairdo, like …so. Straight down your back. What color hair would you like, Cynth?”

“Blue.”

“Too bad, it clashes with the jacket. Let’s see… change the jacket… gold. No. Silver. Silver it is.”

“Wow, Brian. I think I’ll get extensions and color my hair.”

“Looks kinda groovy, doesn’t it. Vic, what about your hair?”

“Can I go blond?”

Brian sighed. “You’ll look like a Twink.”

“Gee, too bad,” Hunter laughed.

“You stay out of this, Hunter.”

“Yes, Sir. What’re you gonna do with my hair?”

The phone transmitted several clicks of what had to be the mouse, then Hunter whooped. “I need to go to the hairdresser with Cynthia.”

“Your aunties will kill you.”

“Who gives a shit? I want to look like that. Where can we buy the jackets?”

“Like them, keep them,” Brian said. “I wanted them for a photo shoot that fell through.”

“Too bad the jacket won’t go with my new hairstyle,” Cynthia said wistfully.

“There’s a silver one in that bag, I just didn’t want to set up the shot again,” Brian replied. “Help yourself.”

“Great,” Cynthia said, “Then you can have the red one.”

“It won’t fit,” Brian said, the rattling of the keyboard indicating he was typing rapidly.

“Go on, try it on.”

“You won’t leave me alone if I don’t, right?”

“Right,” Hunter said. “We’re on your case.”

“Aw, fuck. Here, does that make you happy?” Some rustling, apparently Brian was trying the jacket.

“Actually, it doesn’t. What size are those jackets?”

“One size fits all, which is bullshit of course. It never does. Why?”

“They’re kind of loose on us, and yours fits snug in all the right places. Hell, you look hot in that jacket.”

Cynthia laughed. “It’s the other way round, kiddo. Brian makes his clothes look hot!”

“The advantages of not being one of the little people, you midgets. Now, can I get back to work?”

“Are you going to keep the jacket?”

“If it shuts you up.”

“Are you going to wear it?”

“Yes, Vic, I’ll wear it. I always wanted to be one of the four Stooges.”

“Three,” Cynthia said.

“Whatever,” Brian muttered. “Does anybody remember whether the copywriter had anything clever to say about those repulsive pantaloons? “

“Portable pants,” Cynthia replied.

“That sucks. Fire the jerk.”

“You’ve done that. It’s what Mark came up with. The copywriter I assigned refused to work with him.”

“I thought this was my business, not some damn democracy. Who was the copywriter?”

“Daphne.”

“Daphne? What happened? That girl can get along with an ogre!”

“She wouldn’t say.”

“Okay, forget that for now. We need a slogan. Ideas, anybody?”

“Future fits,” Judson said.

“Wado, Minninnewah ,” Brian said. “How long have you been on the line for?”

“Not for long,” Judson said. “Does the jacket really look that hot, Hunter?”

“Fuck you,” Brian said, without rancor. “Future fits sounds more like what parents are going to have when they see their kids wearing these. Fitting the future?”

“Who’s the ad for?” Judson wanted to know.

“Pittsburgh Pants and Sportswear,” Cynthia supplied.

“That’s about as daring as they get,” Judson said. 

“Yeah. I think I must’ve been drunk when I did the pitch. I didn’t even fucking want the account!”

“Well, thank you for beating me anyway,” Judson laughed.

“You were after that?”

“Yep. Sure were.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“I can think of a few things.”

“So can I,” Brian said, “But right now, I need to finish here. My boyfriend will have a fit if I keep him waiting much longer.”

“I don’t know about that,” Judson said. “I think your boyfriend enjoyed the sneak view into your office life.”

“I think my boyfriend is sneaky.”

“You love me for it.”

“No, Judson. I love you, but not for being sneaky.”

 

Justin felt the knot of anger tighten that had been growing for the last few minutes. Since when did Brian say those words to anybody? Anybody else, at that! And he kept calling the guy his boyfriend, too. What was going on here? Why hadn’t they told him that Brian was seeing somebody? 

Worse yet, Brian’s voice had gone from that bantering tone to the one that said he was being serious. 

Justin balled his fists.

 

In the background, a printer hummed to life and produced its characteristic staccato. Somebody opened a drawer, and a pen scrawled across paper.

“Here guys, thanks for the good work,” Brian said.

“What’s that for,” Hunter asked.

“I take two photos, I pay for two photos,” Brian answered.

“That’s too much,” Vic said. “I don’t want it.”

“It’s what every model at this agency gets,” Brian said. 

“Most models work for hours, we didn’t,” Cynthia protested.

“That’s why we pay models per used photo, and not per hour. I’d be in the poorhouse otherwise. I wish everybody was as easy to work with as you.”

“Grab it, shut up, and run,” Judson said amicably. “What do I get?”

“Your ass kicked, for still being on the phone,” Brian said. “I hung up on you, why are you still there?”

“Fucking malfunction,” Hunter grumbled. “I’ll fix it before I go home.”

“I’d appreciate that. Judson, would you hang up already? And Vic, give me those prints, please?”

Some paper shuffling, then Brian said, “Well, guys, what do you think?”

“I wish I really looked like that,” Hunter said. “I think they’re cool.”

“I like the juxtaposition with that background. Where did you get the photo?”

“I took it in Berlin, Vic. It’s the structural skeleton for the German Reichstag.”

“Wow. Did the moon really look like that?”

“Actually, yes. That was the week when they had that sandstorm in the Sahara desert, and all the sand in the atmosphere made the moon that color. I didn’t even need to enhance the shot!”

“Now I know why Leda keeps saying she wishes she had your eye. That snap looks so cool and distant, and then you look at that moon and it makes all the difference!”

There was a definite smile in Brian’s voice when he replied, “We certainly see eye to eye, sonny-boy. So, you think we should send this out?”

“Yeah, absolutely. PPS had better buy it without changes!”

“Here’s hoping. Gindsburg is a square! Can I send emails, Hunter?”

“Sure. I’ll go see what I can do about the network.”

“Right, thanks. Cynthia, get on the phone to Gindsburg and ask him what he thinks.”

“Hunter,” Cynthia called a moment later, “I can’t get a dial tone!”

“That would be my fault,” Judson said comfortably.

“You asshole!” Brian exclaimed, sounding exasperated. “What’s the fascination, Judson?”

“It’s kinda nice to hear you bust your butt.”

“I’ll bust your butt in a minute,” Brian grumbled. “Free the fucking line already, will you!”

“I still don’t know when you’ll be home,” Judson said, unfazed.

“What’s the urgency?”

“All your friends are here, and I’m beginning to feel a little lonely. Not to mention threatened.”

Brian laughed. “Poor baby. You’ll be fine as soon as Leda gets there. She can take on a handful of assholes better than an Indian on the warpath!”

“That’s Native American to you, Paddy.”

“Whatever. If Gindsburg accepts the pictures, I’ll be there in forty minutes. Can you survive that long?”

“I’ll have to, won’t I. But you owe me, big time!”

“So do your friends, for also being late. Now, can I get back to work? The longer you keep me, the longer I’ll be.”

“Right. Drive carefully.”

“Yeah, yeah. Later!”

 

Grinning, Judson pocketed the cell phone and turned to Leda. “Now, wasn’t that entertaining?”

“Yes,” Leda grinned. “Entertaining. Enlightening. And intrusive.”

“It’s just you and me, Leeds. If he really minded, he would have said.”

“Yeah, I know. But he didn’t even know I was here! Poor Cynthia, she’s got a lot of shit to deal with.”

Judson shrugged. “You heard him. Brian’s taking care of her.”

“I guess he’ll be on Schmidt’s case next. My salary isn’t in yet, either.”

“Need some cash?”

“No, thanks, I’m fine. But you might want to ask the boys, I know they did a lot of spending last month.”

“They’ll be okay. Or do you think they’ll need more than the 2,400 bucks they earned between them in ten minutes flat?”

Leda laughed. “I guess not. I forgot about that. He did that just to make sure Cynthia’s alright, didn’t he.”

“Knowing Brian, yes.”

Leda frowned. “I don’t get it. You’d think his friends would know what a sweetheart he is. Why are they always at his throat?”

“No idea,” Judson shrugged. “I’d like to know how you can be friends with a bunch of jerks like that. Talking about whom, I guess I ought to get back to them.”

“They don’t exactly seem to miss you.”

“We’re not exactly friendly,” Judson sighed. “If it wasn’t for Brian, I would’ve preferred to stay at my place this week.”

“What, and leave me to defend him all by myself? Gee, thanks.” Leda shook her head, but she was smiling. “Which reminds me – I know wado means thanks, but what did the other word mean?”

“It’s another Cherokee word, and I’m not telling,” Judson grinned.

“I’ll google it.”

“Good luck, if you can get the spelling right, you deserve to know.”

Judson draped an arm across Leda’s shoulders and they walked into the house together, Leda swinging her little bag.

 

“Why were we hiding,” Carl asked.

“Haven’t the faintest,” Debbie replied cheerfully. “Why were we hiding, Justin?”

Justin shrugged. “I like to watch people I haven’t met. Gives me an idea what they’re like. Do you know Judson well?”

Debbie shook her head. “Brian doesn’t come to the Diner often anymore, and when he does, he comes alone. He brought Judson to dinner at my house once, but I can’t say we hit it off. I don’t like seeing Brian with anybody else but you, Sunshine!”

Carl grunted, and picked up their bags, handing Justin his. “Let’s go buzz the door, before we have to jump behind the car again. I watch people all day at work; I sure as hell don’t need a busman’s holiday!”

Debbie laughed. “Don’t worry, Carl. You can sit at the pool all week, relax and get tan!”

They walked up to the house, and Carl pressed the buzzer. Justin was unsure how to greet Judson, and whether he’d even manage to be civil to the man who had stolen his Brian. 

All too soon, the door opened, and Judson stood on the threshold, smiling.

Close up, Justin could see how blue those eyes really were, and that they were framed by long lashes. The hair looked shiny and soft, the skin was unblemished and the tan gorgeous. Shit. The guy was dazzling. Small wonder Brian had gone after him.

“Debbie, Carl, come on in.” Judson stepped aside and looked at Justin. 

Their eyes locked and held, but Debbie broke the moment. “Sunshine, this is Brian’s current boy toy. I think his name is Judson.”

Justin felt Carl cringe, and wondered where that tactless introduction had come from. Debbie was certainly blunt, but this was a bit much, even for her.

“And that puts me in my place,” Judson said calmly and held out his hand. “Hello, Sunshine. Welcome to Brian’s.”

His turn to cringe. Justin actually felt the color rush into his cheeks. He couldn’t very well apologize on Debbie’s behalf, but he certainly felt as if he should. 

He took the proffered hand. “Let’s start over. I’m Justin Taylor, and I’m always glad to meet one of Brian’s friends.”

“Judson Scout. Brian’s friends are my friends.”

“Bullshit,” Melanie’s voice said from inside. “We have to put up with you.”

“Justin! It’s so good to see you!” Lindsay pushed Judson out of the way and pulled Justin into a fierce embrace.

Startled, Justin understood what his mother had been trying to say the other day, and realized that it would have been better to stay away. But he was here now, and unless he could think of a really good excuse, he was stuck for the week. Damn.

He met Judson’s eyes for a moment, and tried to understand the emotion he saw there. Resignation maybe?

“I’ll show you to your rooms,” Judson said, unruffled.

“I’ll do that,” Lindsay cut in. “We have some catching up to do!”

Judson shrugged. “Meet the rest of the gang at the swimming pool when you’re ready. I’m told you know your way around, Justin.”

Justin couldn’t say anything, because Melanie and Lindsay swooped down on him with questions and tales about the kids. He caught Carl’s expression though, as he was pulled away by the two women. The disgust he saw there was not for Judson, that much was certain.

On the way over to the stables he found out that Lindsay and Mel were staying in the house with the kids, and Leda had a room in the house, too.

The gay couples were sharing rooms above the stables, and so were Debbie and Carl, his mother and the asshole Tucker, and Daphne and her boyfriend. Somehow, it hurt that Daphne was with somebody. She hadn’t even told him she was going steady. 

Molly was sharing Leda’s room, and Hunter had a room to himself. He learned that he was supposed to share with somebody named Jim; and that nobody from their old crowd had yet met those three new guys.

This was definitely not as easy as Debbie had made it sound, Justin reflected unhappily as he unpacked his stuff. 

Fortunately, the women had rushed downstairs when JR started to scream, bless her. 

He took his toiletries to the gay guys’ bathroom, grinning at the sign on the door. He’d like to meet the artist; that was one heck of a drawing. 

The bathroom was terrific, the mirrors large and well-lit, and enough power points for everyone. And everybody had their own cabinets. Cool! He found an empty one after opening some that were already in use, and put his few things on the shelves.

Justin peeked into the straight guys’ bathroom and grinned. Those mirrors were okay for shaving, but that was about it. The gals’ bathroom was much like the one for the gay guys, only the color scheme was different. The guys had a cool looking bathroom, with black tiles and chrome and glass, the one for the girls had soft colors and a bathtub to soak in.

Still grinning, Justin went downstairs to find the pool. Easy enough, you only had to follow the voices. As soon as Michael spotted him, he and Ted and Emmett were all over him. Strange how times had changed. Justin clearly remembered how Michael had done his best to get rid of him, more than once. Apparently, they liked Judson even less. So, what had the poor guy done? He seemed nice enough, and rather easy going.

Greetings over, and having reacquainted himself with everybody after saying hello to his mother, Justin pointed at the paper Emmett and Michael had been salivating over. “What’s to drool?”

“This guy,” Michael said, handing him the paper.

“He’s hottttt,” Emmett added, making a show of fanning himself. “The hottest!”

Justin looked at the black-and-white picture, an ad for table water. A man, leaning back against a concrete wall, his head tipped so that all you saw was parted lips with a glint of white teeth behind them, a strong chin, a long throat, a well-defined chest and flat stomach, the button and half the zip on the low-riding jeans open. A million tiny water droplets glistened on the bare skin, reflecting the light. 

That first night. Brian had poured a bottle of cold water over himself. The water had glistened, danced. Beckoned. How he had longed to lick up that water, how he had wanted to touch the warm skin under the cool droplets…

Justin moistened dry lips. He was suddenly very thirsty. “Fuck. That’s Brian.”

“No way!” Emmett said immediately.

“Can’t be,” Michael said.

“Way.” Justin said firmly. “I’ve drawn that line a thousand times. Trust me, guys. That’s Brian.”

Everybody fell silent as they studied the print.

“It’s not, is it?” Michael said, hungrily eyeing the picture.

“Sure looks like him, now that you mentioned it,” Emmett said, tilting the picture.

Debbie looked over their shoulder. “Holy shit. It’s Brian alright!”

 

Just then, Daphne came around the corner of the house, holding hands with a tall, dark-haired man with twinkling grey eyes. 

Justin caught his breath. Daphne looked lovely, had a fabulous new haircut, and she was pregnant. Pregnant, and she hadn’t even told him!

Daphne beamed at him, “Justin! You’re here!”

Justin couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah, I’m here. And you’re pregnant!”

Daphne grinned. “Tell me about it. My back is killing me. Justin, this is my boyfriend, Matthew Carpenter, Matt for short.”

They shook, and Matt grinned, “I really need to verify all the stories I heard about you!”

Justin smiled back. “Just believe all the good stuff and forget the rest.”

“That’s easy, I can do that.”

“Lucky for you,” Jennifer muttered, and Justin shot his mother a surprised look. 

Daphne rolled her eyes at him and hooked her free arm under his, never letting go of Matt. “Let’s go sit down and catch up.” 

Justin allowed himself to be pulled along to the group of chairs that stood on the lawn.

 

Gus tugged at Judson’s jeans. “Where’s daddy?”

Judson squatted, “I’m sorry he’s late, champ. What say we call the office and ask how long he’s gonna be?”

“Please! Tell him I want him to come home now.”

“I’ll do that,” Judson grinned. “I want him home now, too.” 

He pulled out his cell and dialed. “Vic, it’s me. Has Brian left yet?” 

He listened for a moment, then said, “Thanks, Vic. Have a good one! Bye!”

Smiling at Gus, he said, “He left the office half an hour ago, so he should be here in a few minutes. Why don’t you go around the front and wait for him?”

Gus beamed. “Yeah, great. Come on, JR, let’s wait for my daddy!” 

The two kids skipped around the corner, and Daphne smiled. “I hope my boy is going to be this cute!”

“You already know it’s a boy? How far along are you?”

“Sixth month starts next week. I can’t wait! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming back?”

Justin shrugged. “I woke up one morning and felt homesick, and I was tired of New York. So, I packed up and came back.”

“Another one of those spontaneous decisions?” Daphne smiled.

Justin nodded. “Yes. And save the bit about those being my bad decisions. I’ve heard that one.”

Daphne shrugged. “So, your mom beat me to it. Have you had time to talk to Molly yet?”

Justin shook his head. “No, I’ve been at their house only twice. The first time, Molly wasn’t in, and the second time, she was about to go out.”

Daphne smiled. “The little mollusk has grown up.”

“She’s definitely out of the shell,” Justin agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minninnewah – Cherokee word meaning whirlwind


	3. Three

“Daddy!” Gus shrieked, followed by his sister’s delighted “Dada!”

Justin registered the roar of a powerful motor, and wondered whether the Harley made that kind of noise. It certainly hadn’t sounded like that on Liberty Avenue.

Judson had already vanished around the corner, and it suddenly occurred to Justin that it might be a good idea to greet Brian without too many witnesses. He made to follow Judson, but to his dismay found that Mel and Lindsay got up, as well as Debbie and Michael. Sighing inwardly, he made his way to the front.

The rest of the group pushed past him, but Justin stood still, taking in the scene. He had always loved watching Brian, even when Brian did simple everyday things, such as taking a shower or eating an apple.

Brian parked the car – correction, Justin thought. That’s not a car, that’s a fucking rocket. He’d never seen a car like that. Easily 13 or even 14 feet long, but only about 3 foot high, she looked as though you could park her underneath a decently sized kitchen table.

The door swung up and out of the way, and Brian got out, gracefully unfolding his long limbs. Armani, Justin thought, a blue suit with a powder blue silk shirt and dark red tie. He’d been driving barefoot. 

Brian looked breathtaking.

His attention was on the two kids, who were eagerly pawing his trousers. 

“Daddy! Daddy! Pick me up,” Gus demanded, and JR echoed, “Me, me!”

Laughing, Brian swept both kids up into his arms, kissing first Gus, then JR. “Hi, guys! How are my favorite kids?”

“Okay now,” Gus said. “I was so waiting for you!”

“I wanted to be here for you when you arrived, but I had to work.”

“That’s okay, Daddy,” Gus said. “But you got the whole week off, right?”

“Right. We get to spend lots of time together.”

Judson lifted JR down and slipped an arm around Brian’s waist, pulling him close. His lips travelled down Brian’s cheek and finally closed over his mouth.

Justin could see the contented sigh in the way Brian leaned against Judson. Jealously, he watched as Brian’s posture relaxed and his eyes drifted shut, his free hand tangling tenderly in Judson’s long hair.

Justin was shocked. That was no boy toy. This was deeper, deeper than even Michael. Justin had seen the emotion behind the kisses Brian sometimes bestowed upon Michael, the aching affection. Only here, it was worse. Judson obviously returned the feeling tenfold.

This wasn’t a kiss that said I want your ass. This was the kind of kiss that said I adore you. Justin knew the difference.

The lingering kiss was more intimate than anything he’d ever seen Brian do, and Justin felt vaguely uncomfortable watching. He’d never needed to avert his eyes when he saw Brian with his cock up some guy’s ass, or down some throat. But here, right now, Justin knew he was blushing.

Just then, the couple broke apart.

“How was your day?” Brian asked, shifting Gus to the other arm.

“Different. Yours?”

Brian shrugged. “Interesting. And you know how I hate interesting!”

They smiled at each other, and Judson brushed back a strand of Brian’s hair that kept falling into his eyes. “Let’s get around back; I’ll get you a drink.”

“I could do with one,” Brian said, transferring Gus to Judson so that he could take off his jacket. He folded it and put it on the driver’s seat, then pushed the car door down. Gus held out his arms and Brian took him back, smiling.

“Wait,” Judson said, and pulled Brian close again. 

They shared another gentle kiss, and Justin wanted nothing more than to be in Judson’s place again. And this scene made for one hell of a drawing. For the first time in months, he was just itching for his sketch book and a pencil.

The kiss was sweet and the sage expression on the kid’s face was priceless. 

Brian must have looked like that when he was little, tousled chestnut hair and wide hazel eyes.

Justin realized he knew very little about Brian’s youth, and almost nothing about his childhood. Did anybody know more? Michael, perhaps? He’d need to ask.

JR tugged at Brian’s trousers. “Me, me!”

Brian stepped back from Judson, drawing his lips into his mouth for a second. 

Justin remembered that, it was as if Brian wanted to continue tasting the kiss. Damn.

“Me, what, honey?”

“Up!” JR demanded.

“You remind me of somebody,” Brian grinned. He picked the little girl up, while Gus wrapped his arms around his neck. “Happy now?”

JR stuck a sucker under Brian’s nose. “Want some? It’s real good!”

Brian moved his head back. “Uh, no thanks, sweetheart. You enjoy it.”

The small face puckered up. “Lick,” she insisted.

Brian tilted his head, studying the sulky expression for a moment. 

Justin grinned to himself. There was no way Brian could avoid that lollipop.

“Okay,” Brian sighed. He stuck out his tongue and gave the sucker a quick swipe. “There.”

Then he made a face and gestured for Judson to take the girl off him. Brian pulled the back of his hand across his mouth and grimaced again. “That’s disgusting. Why is that sucker full of fuzz, JR?”

Gus giggled. “She always keeps them in her pocket. And when she wants to lick them again, she finds somebody to lick them first so they get the fluff off.”

“Brilliant,” Brian said. “You could’ve warned me, son. That wasn’t nice, JR.”

“First you tongue your boy toy, then my girl’s sucker. I just hope you’re both clean,” Melanie said coldly, taking the child out of Judson’s arms. “I don’t want my daughter to catch anything.”

“And hello to you, Mel,” Brian said. “What if I catch something from her sucker?”

“Honestly, you two. Try to get along for the first hour, will you?” Michael hugged Brian, and then held out his arms to Gus.

Gus shook his head and tightened his arms around Brian’s neck, “I’m with my daddy.”

Michael shrugged. “You’re ruining his outfit.”

“Fuck the outfit,” Brian said. “My son’s more important.”

“Language, Brian,” Lindsay sighed. She reached up to peck him on the cheek, and Brian gave her a sharp look.

“You okay, Linds?”

“Sure,” Lindsay sighed again. “It was a bit of a rough trip, what with two kids and all that.”

Brian shook his head. “I told you to come by plane.”

“And we didn’t want to,” Melanie said brusquely.

“I gathered that,” Brian replied evenly, but Justin saw the look he shot Judson and grinned to himself.

Justin realized that almost everybody had trickled to the front of the house. His mother had been right; they’d not give them a private moment. Justin cursed himself. What had possessed him?

“Come on, Brian,” Michael said, pulling at his arm and forcing him to take a few steps, “you haven’t seen the guys in ages.”

“Forget about the guys,” Debbie said. “Look who else is here, Brian!”

The second their eyes met, Justin felt the familiar jolt. Brian was just too bloody beautiful. He remembered seeing Brian for the very first time, prowling him. Remembered Brian struggling with the repercussions of the bashing. Remembered Brian almost begging him to marry him. The man who now faced him was not the same.

Brian’s hair was as short as it had been that first day, maybe a touch shorter. His figure had changed a little, his waist even narrower than it had been, his shoulders slightly more powerful and the gait even more spirited. A new work-out regiment, then. 

Most notable were the chances in the face he had once known so well. His artist’s eye recalled that in the beginning, Brian’s mouth had curved up like that. In the years that followed, that line had straightened, to an extent were Brian occasionally looked bitter. Now, the full lips curved up again. The frown that had begun to draw a fine line between his brows was gone, and the beautiful eyes under the thick lashes were gentle and clear. Brian looked at peace.

“You can quit staring. Botox simply does wonders for a guy’s looks,” Melanie said.

“That’s life, not cosmetic surgery,” Justin said softly.

Brian raised a caustic eyebrow at him, and Justin realized that they still hadn’t said a word to each other.

“You’re not still sore at Sunshine, are you?” Debbie cut in.

“Sore? Why would I be sore?” Brian asked calmly, still regarding him with a look that made Justin feel as though he were some sort of particularly ugly garden gnome.

“I can think of a few things,” Michael said gleefully. “He dumped you like four times, the last time right in front of the altar.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Brian said, “thanks for reminding me, Mikey. I’d forgotten about that. Still, no hard feelings, you know that Justin, don’t you.”

Justin swallowed. He felt the disappointment of their onlookers, like an insect crawling on his skin. Like a pack of hyenas waiting for their share of the lion’s prey. “Yes, I know, Brian. Thanks for saying it, though.”

Brian shrugged and held out his free hand. “So, Justin. Back for good?”

“Back for bad,” Jennifer said from behind him. Startled, Justin turned. He hadn’t even been aware his mother was there.

He was extremely relieved when Brian draped a friendly arm across his shoulder and said in a stage whisper, “You should’ve been at their wedding, Sunshine!”

Justin smiled at him. “Something came up.”

Brian shook his head. “Bad boy, sonny-boy.”

 

Yeah, Debbie. Look who else is here. Like I didn’t feel his presence from a mile off.

Justin. My Justin.

The hair too long. The jeans don’t fit. Those shoes are a disgrace. The T-shirt looks worn. He lost weight. Fuck, he’s thin.

Beautiful. So fucking beautiful. 

Impossible to tear your eyes away.

Justin looks as timid as he had that night under the lamp-post. So young, so lost.

Right. Stop the flights of fancy. You're a grown man, Brian Kinney. He’s a grown man.

Besides, you’ve got an audience. Pull yourself together, and play it cool. You can do that. You’ve had plenty of practice the last year.

Right. Put an arm around his shoulder, just to make sure he’s real.

God, yes. He’s real alright.

Calm the fuck down. You’ll be fine. 

You’d better be.

 

They rounded the corner, and Brian let go of Justin and set Gus down to kiss Daphne. He said hello to Matt, hugged Tucker and greeted Carl.

Meanwhile, Judson had poured him a drink. Brian loosened his tie, opened the top two buttons on his shirt and accepted the proffered drink with a grateful nod. 

Leda came out of the house with Molly, and Molly ran straight into Brian’s arms, almost spilling his drink. “Thank you for those photos, thank you, thank you! They’re so brilliant! You’re totally awesome! Thank you so much!”

Laughing, Brian held the exuberant girl at arm’s length. “I take it you were pleased with the photos, Molly.”

“They really are stunning,” Tucker said.

“That’s because Molly is stunning,” Brian smiled.

“What photos?” Debbie asked.

“Brian invited Molly to the AA awards two weeks ago,” Jennifer explained with a smile. “Brian got hold of the press photos and had them enlarged for us.”

“Why do you bother to go to AA meetings? You’re still drinking,” Melanie said, pointing at Brian’s glass.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Not Alcoholics Anonymous, Mel. Advertising Agencies.” 

“Did you get another award, Daddy,” Gus wanted to know.

Brian smiled down at the boy. “Yes, we did.”

“What kind?” 

Justin grinned. Perseverance clearly ran in the family. 

“Judson got one for best continuance in a campaign,” Brian said.

“You wouldn’t get that one, would you. Continuing isn’t your strong suit.”

“Aw, Mel, we all know my strong suit is Armani,” Brian grinned.

“Gus, Kinnetik got an award for best female modelling, for best photographer, for best copywriter, one for most innovative campaign and for best overall performance,” Molly rattled off excitedly. “And your daddy got the award for…”

“Shush!” Brian said quickly. “Not another word, Molly!”

“But that’s the best one!” Molly protested.

“That’s what you think,” Brian said darkly.

“I agree with Molly,” Leda said mildly. “And well deserved.”

“Just how many awards did you get,” Justin asked, seeing his mother exchange an amused and indulgent smile with Tucker. Was the smile for Molly? Or for Brian?

“Kinnetik and affiliates got seven awards out of fifteen,” Judson said.

“Ouch,” Justin grinned. “The competition must hate you.”

“Brian is used to the competition hating him. He just fucks them until they shut up.”

“Yeah, but I don’t fuck with them,” Brian said comfortably, pouring himself another drink. “Which is why they hate me, but still respect me enough to give Kinnetik awards. How’s the lawyering going in Toronto, Melanie?”

Justin shook his head. Mel had always had a sharp tongue, especially around Brian, but today, she was breaking her own records. That must have been one hell of a drive they had had with the kids.

“So-so,” Mel said. “Lawyers are busy everywhere.”

Surprised, Justin tried to understand the expression on Gus’ face. Contempt? The little boy gave Mel what could only be termed a stern look. How odd to see that on such a small kid.

“Nice car,” Lindsay said, in an all too obvious attempt to break the tension.

“That’s not a car,” Justin replied. “That’s a spaceship!” 

It wasn’t often he had an urge to draw cars, but this one was different. Silver exterior, silver interior. Driven by Brian. One hot car for one hot guy.

“A special car for Rage,” Michael grinned at him. He was right. That was the kind of vehicle they should’ve given him. Justin wished he’d done more research on that. What Rage got around in was just too tame.

“It’s just a set of wheels,” Melanie said. “Get over it.”

“What kind of car is it,” Ben asked, “I don’t think I’ve ever even seen one like that before. Those butterfly doors are awesome.”

“It’s a 1989 Lamborghini Countach,” Judson said.

“Gee, Brian. Yet another toy that’s younger than you,” Mel said.

“Actually, I like my cars vintage, my bikes new and my boyfriend hot and compatible,” Brian said, winking at Judson.

“Quit flirting,” Mel said impatiently. “You’re not sixteen anymore.”

“What’s with you, Mel? That time of the month?” Emmett shook his head. “Give Brian a break. At least let him get changed before you start in on him!”

“There aren’t many of those around, are there?” Ben asked.

“Not at that price, there won’t be,” Ted said. 

“What price is that, Ted?” Emmett asked.

“135,000 bucks!” Ted replied.

Emmett pretended to faint.

“Thanks, Ted. Care to share any more of my business?” Brian frowned.

“You can buy a house for that,” Debbie said. “What possessed you to spend so much money on a car?”

“I already have a house,” Brian said. “I wanted a car. And my fucking spending is nobody’s business.”

“Of course not,” Debbie said. “But can you afford to squander that much?”

“Yes.” Brian said. “I can. Now, can we change the subject?”

 

A handsome blond man with bright hazel eyes sauntered around the corner, and Gus yelled, “Jimmy!”

Brian whirled, his eyes suddenly sparkling. “Jim! We didn’t think you’d make it today!”

Jim picked up Gus and swung him into the air. “Hello, homme beau. How’s life?”

Gus grinned. “I’m visiting daddy!”

“So, life’s good, then?” Jim smiled, and Justin felt his heart skip. Jim was a hunk.

“Yeah,” Gus nodded. “Now!”

“Great. Now, can I say hi to your dad and everybody?”

Gus nodded reluctantly. “Okay, but you gotta play with me after!”

“I will, I promise!”

Jim set Gus on the floor and went into Brian’s arms. Justin realized that Jim must be about his own height, because he only came up to Brian’s shoulder.

Brian held tight for a long moment and then tilted his head as if to kiss Jim. Jim leaned back.

“Still undecided,” he said with a small grin.

Brian shook his head. “I plan on changing that. Sometime soon.” His eyes widened meaningfully.

“And I’m still not sure whether to say ‘I wish’ or ‘Please don’t’!”

Judson pulled Jim away and hugged him. “Don’t be scared. I won’t let the big bad boy near you.”

“Because you want him all to yourself,” Brian said.

“Not much chance of that,” Daphne smiled. “Just look at all those hungry faces. The wolves are on the prowl tonight, Jim!”

“Uh-oh. I guess I’d better lock my door.”

“Bad idea,” Jennifer grinned at him. “You’ll be locking one of the worst predators in with you. You’re sharing with my son!”

“I’m doomed!” Jim shook his head and looked at Justin. “Are you Justin? You must be, you look so much like Molly. If you’re Justin… doom might not be so bad, after all.”

“I’m Justin,” Justin confirmed with a grin. “And I’m all for locking the door,” he winked.

Jim laughed. “That’s settled, then.”

“That man is a butterfly,” Judson sighed dramatically. “You blink once and he’s gone.”

Brian put an arm around his waist and brushed a kiss across his lips. “I’m no butterfly. No amount of blinking will get rid of me.”

“More’s the shame,” Mel muttered.

Judson smiled into Brian’s eyes, and Justin felt that stab of jealousy again. He’d better get used to the feeling, he thought.

“I’m glad you’re not a butterfly. They’re flighty, and fragile. You, on the other hand…” Judson’s voice trailed off into a whisper, and Brian smiled and leaned forward for another kiss. Justin had only managed to catch the words ‘lasting’ and ‘hard’. 

“I’m getting sick of that,” Mel grumbled.

Brian shook his head at her. “What’s wrong, Mel, not getting enough?”

“She’s not getting any,” Gus said, “They’re sleeping in different rooms!”

Brian’s lids fluttered, and Justin knew he was torn between amusement and amazement. “That’s not the kind of information you share outside your own house, Gus,” he said.

Emmett giggled. “We need that kind of information, Brian. We don’t find out anything about them now that they live in Toronto!”

“Well, girls, if you need somebody to kick-start the marriage, just let me know!” Leda winked at Lindsay.

“How about we start by kicking you,” Mel said angrily.

Leda shook her head. “To think I used to call you sugar-lips. I think tart tongue is more like it today.”

Mel pushed back from the table and stomped into the house. Lifting her shoulders in silent apology, Lindsay went after her.

 

“Well, if the marriage’s in trouble, it’s no wonder Melanie is running off her mouth,” Debbie said.

“She could pick another target, though,” Justin said.

The look Brian shot him was one of surprise. What, hadn’t he expected him to back him up?

“Say, quite apart from the fact that he’s your son, isn’t that kid a little young to be checking you out, Brian?”

“Are you going commando?” Leda asked simultaneously.

“And you’d want to know that because?” Brian turned and looked down at Gus. “You’re right, Tucker. He’s too young to be checking me out. What’re you looking at, Gus?”

“I’m looking for dirt,” Gus said absentmindedly.

“In my line of work, you don’t get dirty,” Brian said, bending down so he could look into the boy’s eyes. “Why are you looking for dirt, Gus?”

“Mom Mel said you were filthy rich. I know you’re rich, but I didn’t know you were filthy.”

Just then, Melanie and Lindsay returned. Melanie had the grace to blush.

“Filthy money is what people say when they’re envious of another person’s possessions. As soon as the money drops into their own pockets, you can bet they think it’s sparkly clean,” Leda said sharply.

“Leeds,” Brian said warningly. “Gus, I think Mom Mel just meant that I have enough money.”

“You got more money than you know what to do with,” Debbie said. “I can’t get over the price for that car.”

“Brian works like fourteen hours a day,” Daphne said, and Justin wondered how she knew that. “He’s entitled to have fun with his money.”

“Can we please find a new topic,” Brian said.

“We can give you a new topic, precious.”

Justin studied the two newcomers. 

They were older than Brian and Judson, maybe by ten years. Both were handsome, almost as tall as Brian, and looked slim and fit. One had dark curly hair and deep brown eyes; the other was blond with bright blue eyes. Both wore jeans with white shirts and sneakers. Justin wondered whether those smiles were meant to be as evil as they looked to him.

“Ken, Dave,” Judson grinned. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“We’re late because we were coming,” the brunet said.

“Yeah. Like four or five times last night, and about four times today,” the blond added.

“You make it sound like that’s not normal,” Brian said.

“We were down to twice.”

“Twice a day? That’s pathetic,” Brian scoffed.

“Twice a week,” the brunet grinned. 

Brian grimaced. “Thanks for sharing. Now let’s talk about something else. You make my dick go soft.”

“Brian!” Melanie protested, while Lindsay shook her head. Carl was grinning, which indicated to Justin that he had relaxed a little about the gay issue.

“Let’s. Let’s discuss irresponsible advertising.”

“Okay, so you’ve discovered the joys of Viagra. Congratulations. I’m sure we’re all happy for you. As for the rest, the Yellow Pages should have the address of a good therapist.”

“Brian, my precious. You don’t understand,” the brunet shook his head.

“I don’t understand. You got that right. What’s to understand, Ken?”

“We were watching a film last night. A film specifically chosen so it would bore us to sleep and give us an early night,” Dave said.

“Starsky and Hutch,” Ken said.

“Yuck,” Ted said.

“Ben Stiller. Eeew!” Emmett added.

“Too much information. I don’t want to know that much about your private life. It gives me the creeps,” Brian protested. “Fancy going to sleep with those dudes on your brain! That’s stuff for nightmares.”

“It gets better, my lovely,” Ken reassured with a menacing smile. “Right in the middle of a mind-blowingly dull scene, they broke for commercials. And while we were not particularly bothered about shampoo for red-heads, the new Pontiac, or that amazing brand of coffee, they were pleasantly boring and nothing to rouse us from our delightful daze. But then…”

“Bang!” Dave interjected loudly, making a few people jump.

“… it happened. We were up. In more sense than one. Very much up!”

Dave nodded sagely. “Oh yes. We were up. And coming.”

“And what do you know, for the first time in twelve years of living together, there was a third man in our bed. A man we both wanted there, a man we both fantasized about.”

“We think that guy owes us.”

“That’s nice for you,” Brian said.

“Actually, we think it’s crystal-clear the man ought to share,” Ken grinned.

Brian’s face lit with a bright smile. He took a step back. “Come on, guys. You don’t want to do that. I’m wearing Armani.”

“We’ll be happy to buy you a new suit.”

Laughing, both men started to wrestle Brian backward in the direction of the pool.

“Need help, Bri?” Judson asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t you get involved,” Ken grinned. “It’s not healthy.”

Sniggering, Brian fought back. 

Even the kids seemed to understand that all the shoving and jostling was just in jest, and perfectly good-natured. Everybody watched, grinning.

It took them a few minutes, but eventually Dave and Ken managed to hurl Brian into the pool.

Brian went down, and stayed under water.

“Not funny, Brian,” Ken said.

Judson strolled over to the pool and stood at the side. “Mr Kinney. Time’s up.”

“Did he hit his head?” Dave asked.

“Fuck,” Ken said. Both men kicked off theirs shoes and jumped in, feet first. 

Brian propelled himself up; Judson reached out and pulled Brian out of the pool. They grinned at each other and Brian winked at Gus.

“Jerk,” Ken said, grinning. He and Dave grabbed the side of the pool and began to heave themselves up.

Smirking, Brian tossed back his wet hair and went down on his knees in front of them, legs spread wide. “I just love to share, boys.”

Justin bit his lip. Brian’s bedroom voice. Damn him.

Ken and Dave took one look at Brian’s crotch and dropped back into the water. 

“Fuck you,” Dave muttered.

Brian grinned. “You wish.”

“Are you guys … coming … out?” Judson asked, smiling, tousling Brian’s hair.

“In a while,” Ken said.

“When we’re ready to pick another bone with Brian,” Dave added.

“That’s boner, I believe,” Brian said, getting to his feet in one smooth movement. “I’m here for you, guys.”

Judson chortled. “Shut up, Bri, or they’ll be spending the night in the damn pool.”

Brian shrugged. “I imagine they’ll get out when they’re all alone.”

“Weren’t you worried about your dad,” Jennifer asked Gus.

Gus shook his head. “Daddy can hold his breath for eighty seconds. He says it comes in handy when you’re having sex.”

Yeah, he remembered that. Only too well. Those treasured, long, too short eighty seconds. Justin watched as his mother’s eyes widened. Jennifer actually blushed. 

Tucker laughed. “Did he say why?”

“He says he’ll tell me when I’m twelve,” Gus sighed. “I have to wait six more years!”

“Poor boy, Gus. You gonna tell me, Bri?”

Brian grinned at Tucker and shrugged. “Depends. You reckon you’re old enough?”

 

A young man in a courier’s uniform walked around the corner and asked, “Mr Kinney? Brian Kinney?”

Brian turned, and the dispatch rider gasped audibly. “It’s you. God.”

Brian smirked. “Mr Kinney will suffice.”

The courier swallowed, his eyes wide and fixed on Brian.

Justin could understand why. 

The wet outfit clung to Brian, following every line, every contour of his body. The trousers might as well have been transparent, and the shirt wasn’t any better, with the loosened red tie pointing the way. 

Brian spread his arms, his grin widening. “When you’ve taken in the view, will you tell me what you want?” Then he tilted his head. “Scratch that. What you want is quite obvious. Tell me why you’re here?”

“You’re hot. I mean, you’re wet.” 

Justin almost felt sorry for the flustered youngster.

Brian smiled. “Both. Well spotted. And apart from cute, you are…?”

The messenger held out an envelope. “Courier. I need an autograph. I mean, a signature. And an ID. Please.”

“My … other … ID is in the car.” Brian walked toward the young man, who stepped back without taking his eyes off Brian.

Judson shook his head. “Go get your wallet, Brian. And why don’t you change into something less wet, and maybe less revealing.” He focused on the courier. “Come into the house and have a soda while you wait.”

Brian kept walking, pulling off his tie as he went. The messenger followed Judson with the air of an excited puppy.

Leda laughed. “The poor kid. Did you see his face!?”

“Well, now it’s firmly established that Brian does go commando,” Tucker grinned.

“And that he’s circumcised,” Jim added.

“I think Armani was designed to be worn wet.”

“At least on Brian, Molly,” Daphne agreed. “A sight for sore eyes, right?”

“He’s awesome,” Molly replied, and Justin was surprised to see his little sister share a feral smile with his oldest friend.

 

“Juice or soda,” Judson asked the courier, as Brian strode past the open-plan kitchen unit. 

“Soda, please.”

Brian tossed his wallet on the counter. “Show him my ID, Judson, so that… what’s your name?”

The courier swallowed. “Steve. Sir.”

Brian shook his head. “Stop calling me Sir, you make me feel like a hundred years old. Fill in your paperwork, Steve, I won’t be long.”

Judson grinned to himself as he watched Steve watching Brian. A lot of people had that look, he mused.

“You reckon he’d give me his autograph?” Steve asked in a faraway voice.

Judson raised his eyebrows. “It’s not like he’s in films, you know.”

“He’s a model, though, isn’t he? I saw that ad for Crystal Clear last night. Man, was I glad I had the VCR running!”

“You like the ad, then? Gonna buy the water?”

“Heck, yes. I already told my mom we’d have to change our brand.”

“Your mom? You still living at home? How old are you?”

“Seventeen. I was lucky to get this job. If I save up, I can go to college in three or four years.”

Judson sighed. “Let me ask about the autograph, okay?”

“Sure,” Steve nodded and began scribbling on his notepad.

Brian came back, now dressed in white loafers, jeans and a white collared T-shirt. He had toweled his hair, but it was still damp, and he was smoking.

Judson tried to look at him as if for the first time. Tall, dark, handsome. Confident. Moving like a puma, looking like the god of sex. Shit. He’d fall for Brian over and over again. The man was irresistible.

“So, Steve, can I have the envelope?”

“Please sign here. And I’m supposed to wait, your response is required.”

Brian nodded and scribbled his name across the pad Steve held out. He tore open the envelope, and Judson saw that he pulled out a contract and a folded courier envelope.

“Another new account?”

Brian scanned the paperwork and nodded. “Yeah. I need to ratify this, Steve. It’ll take me a while to read it, fifteen minutes tops. Want a snack while you wait?”

Steve shook his head, “No, thanks, Mr Kinney. I’m fine.”

Brian swung himself on the barstool next to the messenger and began to read.

Judson had to suppress a smirk as Steve first tried to move away a little and then cautiously leaned in closer. Brian seemed to pay him no attention, but Judson had seen his eyes flick sideways. Even when he wasn’t hunting, Brian was still smelling out potential prey.

The forgotten soda halfway to his mouth, Steve looked at Brian, completely mesmerized.

Brian took a last drag on his cigarette and stubbed it out. Flicking his tongue across his lips, he flipped the page over.

Judson grinned. Another minute of this, and the kid would be on his knees, begging to give Brian head. As much fun as this was, they had a house full of people, and a few of them might just faint if they walked in on them. Steve would have to wait until another day.

Apparently, Brian had come to the same conclusion, because his demeanor changed subtly. Judson was always amazed how Brian could go from killer-mode to Kinnetik CEO in the blink of an eye, and he sensed Steve was too inexperienced to even interpret the alteration.

Brian reached over, and Judson held out one of the pens that always sat on the counter. Brian signed the contract and the copy, and put the copy back into the fresh envelope, sealing it.

He studied Steve, who blushed. “How come we haven’t seen you around Liberty Avenue?”

Steve hesitated, obviously taken aback by the question. “I don’t go there. I mean, if you do, everybody knows you’re gay, right?”

Brian shrugged. “I guess. Even though I know a bunch of straight people who go there. They’ve got jobs on Liberty, they like some of the clubs, whatever. You plan on hiding who you are for the rest of your life?”

Steve sighed. “My mom doesn’t need to know. She’s got enough to worry about.”

“Well, if you’re in the mood, come down to Penn Avenue. There’s a club called ‘The Three Ring Circus’, it’s mainly for gays and lesbians, but a lot of straight people go there, too. They’ve got a place for ballroom dancing, one where they play contemporary music and one disco that only plays music from the Seventies. We’re always there on Friday nights, not today though. Come to the disco next week. I’ll teach you some moves.”

Steve smiled. “Right. You’re having me on.”

Brian smiled back. “I’m not.”

Steve looked to Judson for confirmation. Judson grinned. “Believe it.”

Steve bit his lip, studying Brian’s face for a moment. “I guess now I got plans for next Friday.”

“That’s settled, then. Looking forward to seeing you there,” Brian said.

“Before I forget, can you sign this for Steve?” 

Judson gave Brian one of the shots they had taken for the table water commercials. They had only needed three for print advertising, but Judson had kept all the photos. Brian looked just too delicious. This one was one of his favorites, so he had more than one. Brian was straddling a wooden chair, his left arm resting on the back, his chest bare and all but two buttons on his fly open. His hair was tousled, his skin glistened with what looked like water, and he held a bottle of table water in his dangling right hand. The tip of his tongue was on his upper lip, and he looked at the viewer from behind lowered lids. Brian looked disheveled enough to suggest he had just enjoyed some hot sex.

Brian grinned. “Now you’re having me on.”

“Am not,” Judson said. “Steve here promised to drink only Crystal Clear from now on. Right, Steve?”

“Right,” Steve confirmed eagerly, his voice hoarse.

“No kidding,” Brian said dryly. “You’re still having me on.”

“Please?” Steve said, his voice down to a whisper.

Brian looked at the young man for a long moment, and Judson wondered what he was thinking. Not that anybody would ever find out. Brian rarely shared his mind. 

Finally, Brian shrugged and took the photo. He switched to one of the pens they normally marked photos with and wrote something, careful to leave the image alone. He slipped the photo into one of the clear plastic covers they always kept in one of the drawers, and then pushed it over to Steve.

“You don’t want your mother to see this,” he grinned. He took some cash out of his wallet and reached for the courier envelope, handing both to Steve. “Here, and thanks for taking this back.”

Steve looked, then protested, “That’s way too much money. I can’t accept it.”

“You can. I really appreciate getting this done before the weekend, and I know this place is out of the way for you. Plus, you had to wait.”

“I get paid for that.”

“Yeah, and we all know that dispatch riders make a bomb. Now, Steve, I have to put this into the safe and make a phone call. We’ll see you on Friday.”

“Friday,” Steve confirmed, his eyes following Brian as he left. Then he turned to Judson. “He gave me a hundred bucks. He must have made a mistake.”

Judson shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Brian can afford to make mistakes like that. Only, he doesn’t. Obviously, he likes you. Put it in your college fund. Or buy yourself something hot to wear on Friday. What’s the writing say?”

Steve gaped at the photo. “Wow,” he breathed. “Intense!”

Judson came around the counter and looked over his shoulder to read what Brian had written.

‘To Steve, the sexy guy who delivers. Thanks! Love and luck, Brian Kinney’

Judson sighed. “Damn. I guess I have to ask for my own autograph.”

Steve grinned. “I need to get this mounted.”

Judson laughed. “I won’t tell him if you don’t.”

Steve hopped down from the barstool, reminding Judson how young he was. They walked out to his bike, and Steve carefully put first the photo, then the envelope into his bag. 

Judson suppressed another grin. “Don’t go delivering the photo and keeping the contract!”

Steve smiled. “No way. That photo is mine.”

Judson relented. “Keep your VCR going. There’s more than one version of that commercial. And nab some of your mother’s girlie magazines; we’re running glossy print versions, too.”

Steve’s face lit. “Oh, I’ll have to start collecting then! My very own Brian Kinney collection!”

“Just don’t tell him I put you up to that,” Judson said.

“I won’t,” Steve kicked his bike into gear. “Have a good week!”

“And you,” Judson said, watching the youngster drive off.

 

Thanks for the dunk, guys. I needed to have somebody give me that kind of look. Not that I could ever admit that, of course.

More importantly… I needed Justin to give me that look. I was wondering before, but now I’m sure.

He wants me back. I want him back. The rest should be simple, right?

Fuck, if only I hadn't started anything with Judson. I don't want to hurt Judson. 

Shit. 

Be honest, Kinney. If necessary, you will.

Fuck you, Justin. You make me ruthless.

 

Judson strolled back to the pool, to find that Ted had his notebook open and almost everybody was crowded around him. Daphne and Leda looked on disapprovingly, and Jennifer had her arms crossed, one foot tapping impatiently.

Leda indicated he should join the assembly with a tilt of her head, so Judson stood behind Justin, looking at the smallish screen. He frowned.

“This is the first one, the others are even hotter,” Ted said.

“That one is hot enough, thank you,” Ken said.

“It gets better,” Ted promised.

Just then, the second commercial commenced.

First, the focus was on the bottle of water standing next to a pool. Then it switched to Brian, swimming toward the camera with sure swift strokes, smoothly drawing himself up to the side. Tiny droplets glinted on his even skin. Brian took a deep swallow from the bottle of water, the camera on the movement of his throat; then it went back to his face. Brian licked his upper lip and his eyes widened. “Crystal Clear water. I’d love to share.”

“Ugh,” Justin muttered. “Bad.”

“Yeah,” Dave said. “It’s a good job he’s not selling cars. I’d buy.”

“And me,” Molly grinned. Justin elbowed her, and Molly looked down her nose at him.

There was a brief countdown, then the third commercial played out.

Brian walked away from the camera, wearing a white tank top and a tight pair of low riding white jeans that showed nothing but promised everything. He had three bottles of water in one hand, and an alluring girl on his arm. Another dazzling girl walked next to them. Brian turned and winked. 

There were several gasps. 

Judson smirked. Brian had been right. It worked.

“Crystal Clear water,” Brian said softly. “I’ll share.”

The camera moved away a little, and showed an attractive young man sprawled on a low bench. Brian met his eyes, moistening his lips, and the man got up and followed him.

“Wow,” Justin said. “That’s hot. And daring.”

Judson shrugged. “It’s time we catered to the gay community. Besides, it’s not clear whether he’s sharing the girls. Sub-text.”

He was about to turn away when there was another countdown. “Wait. There are only three spots.”

Ted shook his head. “There are four. And this one is the best. Pure wanking material.”

The camera showed a dark room, a single spot of white light shining on a black recliner. Brian lounged in it, obviously naked, his head thrown back. The camera slowly moved in on him, picking out the thick lashes resting against his cheek and the fine line of perspiration on his upper lip. Brian had a look that clearly said, ‘just shagged’.

Brian picked up one of the bottles of water that stood next to the chair and brought it to his mouth, his eyes still closed. He opened his lips and, the bottle not touching them, trickled the water down his throat.

“Shit,” Justin whispered.

Judson swallowed, his throat very dry.

Suddenly, Brian was caught in a shower of tiny ice-cubes that poured from above. Brian arched his back in surprise, then stretched languorously and sighed blissfully. “More water,” he murmured huskily, “just what I needed.”

Judson heard the collective sighs around him and was certain that everybody had a sudden intimate interest in one Brian Kinney. He remembered that first time in the loft, when Brian had poured cold water all over himself. Hot. He still got a hard-on, just from the memory.

On screen, Brian shook some of the sparkling ice out of his hair, the rest melting on his skin, leaving silver lines that caught the light. Without looking, he picked up another water bottle, rested it between his legs for a long moment and then drew it up his chest to his lips. He swirled his tongue around the opening, and finally dipped it into the small ring. 

“Fuck,” Ken said hoarsely. “That’s too good to be true.”

Slowly moving the bottle back down his body, Brian visibly took a deep breath. The ice slithered across his body, the trickling water enhancing the sensuous scene. Brian brought the bottle back up to his lips, coiling his tongue around the hole suggestively. He turned his head toward the camera, his eyes dark and wide open, and a sly smile playing on his lips.

“Get your own. I’m not sharing.” He tilted his head back and thirstily drank down the water.

“I don’t believe this,” Tucker muttered. “I just creamed my jeans. Over a guy. Over Brian.”

“Get changed,” Jennifer said sternly, but there was a twinkle in her eyes.

Molly bit her lip and made her way into the house, followed by Lindsay. Debbie shook her head, and Melanie looked murderous.

Judson had to bite his tongue as almost everybody hurried off, their gait slightly stilted.

He had watched that scene at least a hundred times, and it still affected him. But he’d have to deal with Schmidt first.

“Where did you get that?” Annoyed, he realized his voice wasn’t quite steady.

Ted shrugged. “Where everybody got their copies. Mark.”

“What? What do you mean, everybody?”

Just then, Brian came out of the house, one kid on either hand. “I found these guys in front of the TV. On a day like this,” he said. “Where is everybody?”

Melanie guffawed. “Ted shared, and now they all have to find clean clothes.”

“Ted shared what?” Brian asked, puzzled.

“Ice-cubes,” Judson said.

Brian blushed and swallowed. “You don’t mean…”

“I mean. Apparently, it’s the unaired fourth spot.”

“But that’s the one CC liked best,” Ted said. “They’ll air it. They did say only after 10 p.m., though.”

Brian paled. “What do you mean, CC liked it? That was never supposed to go out, that’s private!”

Melanie smirked. “Poor Brian. Looks like you’ve gone from ad-man to porn star.”

Brian swallowed. “Start over. How come CC got hold of that?”

“They called when you were in Boston,” Ted shrugged. “They asked whether we could give them another spot. I wanted to discuss it with Cynthia, but she had the day off and CC seemed in a hurry. The only guys there were Vic and Mark, and Vic is too junior. So, I consulted with Mark. I knew he had this material on his hard-drive, took another look at it and decided the quality is good enough for TV. So, we sent it to CC and they were really happy with it.”

“Fuck. You’re out of your mind,” Brian said. “Tell me this is a joke.”

“No joke,” Ted said. “They paid an additional 90 grand for it.”

“Get into the house. Now.” Brian’s frown had deepened.

Ted waved a negligent hand. “It’s no big deal, Brian. CC got what they wanted, and Kinnetik made some extra cash. Everybody’s happy.”

“Yeah. Only your boss isn’t. And that should be your main concern, keeping me happy. How the fuck did Mark get hold of that material?”

Ted sighed. “I guess somebody broke into your files. It’s easy enough; you can purchase software that decodes passwords.”

“That’s called hacking,” Judson said coldly. “And it’s illegal.”

“Ted,” Brian sounded strained. “I told you to take all clients’ requests to Vic, didn’t I?”

Ted shrugged. “Sure. But the kid’s too inexperienced to know what sells.”

One by one, people came back to the pool, watching the scene curiously. 

Judson noticed that Justin looked worried, and so did Ben and Calvin. Michael was smirking; and Emmett frowned.

Brian let go of the two children and stepped up to Ted’s chair. Ted looked up at Brian towering over him and shrunk into his seat.

“You think I’m stupid, Ted?” Brian’s tone was icy. “I know why you didn’t take this to Vic. Vic is way too decent to have pulled a stunt like that. But you and Mark, you got on like a house on fire. Swapping porn urls, sharing dirty photos and vids… all on my time, I might add. One look at that scene and you must’ve known that was never designed to go out. What the fuck got into you guys?”

“Calm down, Brian. It’s no big deal,” Debbie laughed. “Everybody and the President have seen your ass. Heck, even I’ve seen your ass. And your assets.”

Brian took a deep breath. “My office, Schmidt. A week Monday, nine o’clock sharp.”

He turned on his heel and walked back to the house, every step conveying his anger.

“What’s with him,” Debbie wondered. “He’s not gone shy on us all of a sudden, has he?”

Judson bit his lip, attempting to control his mounting temper. “There’s every possibility that with that one commercial, Brian’s professional reputation is down the drain. You must’ve known that, Ted. Quite apart from the fact that you’re just a fucking accountant. You shouldn’t even stick your nose into the art department, much less get involved in the decision making.”

“I don’t know what you’re worried about, Big Chief,” Melanie said. “Brian’s Mr Teflon. Shit doesn’t stick to him. He’ll turn this into an advantage, you’ll see.”

“How many people have seen this, Ted?”

Ted shrugged. “It’ll be on nation-wide TV next week, what do you care?”

“Answer me.”

“Huh. He can get fearsome, can’t he,” Debbie smirked, chewing her gum.

“Yeah,” Melanie said. “Wait for it, he’s gonna bring out his tomahawk any minute now.”

Judson kept his eyes on Schmidt, letting the childish remarks wash over him.

Ted caved. “Most everybody at the office, apart from Cynthia.”

“Vic? Hunter?”

“No, we didn’t share with them. They’re too young.”

“Besides, they would’ve gone straight to Brian. Which you should have done, if you were any kind of friend. Or a half decent guy. Or a loyal employee. Clearly, you’re none of those.” 

Ted looked sheepish, but shrugged. “Whatever.”

“I can’t believe you did this,” Blake whispered, leaning toward Ted. “Brian’s always been good to you.”

“Yeah,” Ted muttered. “He gave me a really good, boring job.”

Blake leaned back. “But he did give you a job. When nobody else would.”

Emmett put an arm around Blake’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We all go way back. Brian’s going to be furious for a while, and then it’ll blow over.”

Daphne shook her head. “Yeah, you all go way back. Then why don’t any of you know that Brian is an ultra-private person?”

“Private?” Debbie snorted, “Honey, your private person has been seen fucking more guys on Liberty Avenue than I have served breakfasts at the Diner!”

Daphne looked at her coldly. “You’ve known him the longest, apart from Michael. And you two still don’t know anything about him. Fucking some guy doesn’t have to be private. But that clip was stolen from his personal computer, and shown around the office. And then sent to a client. How would you feel if Carl posted naked shots of you at the precinct, or at the Diner?”

Debbie looked taken aback. “That’s different.”

“Sure, Debbie. Things are always different where Brian is concerned.” Jennifer got up, shaking her head. “I’m taking a walk.”

“I’m coming with you,” Justin said, falling into step with her.

“And me,” Molly joined them.


	4. Four

Judson watched as Carl settled next to the pool with Jim, Dave and Ken. Leda joined Daphne, Matt and Tucker; and Michael, Ted and Emmett went into a huddle with their partners. Lindsay sat next to Melanie, not looking at her, pulling a struggling Gus into her lap. Debbie grimaced and sat down with them, trying to entice JR to her.

Clearly, he wasn’t needed. And in two of those groups, he wasn’t wanted. Sighing, Judson went inside.

Now, where would Brian be? Bedroom? Office? Shower?

Judson decided to try the office first, and pushed the door open a crack to peek inside. Brian sat uncharacteristically slumped at the desk, his face resting on his crossed arms. Judson hesitated.

“Come in, and close the damn door,” Brian said wearily. “I’ve made enough of a spectacle of myself.”

Judson did as he was told, and said quietly, “Actually, you’ve handled all this splendidly. I wish I had your countenance and restraint.”

Brian looked up, hair tousled and eyes troubled. “They never know when to leave well enough alone, do they.”

“You tell me,” Judson sighed. He stood behind Brian and gently massaged his shoulders.

“I spoke to Hunter. He has firewalled our computers individually, and they’re now password protected. He’ll be giving people their passwords when they come in next Monday. He’s also running a program in the background that alerts us to illicit software. That sort of thing mustn’t happen again. Can you believe that frigging asshole actually sent the file to the client?”

“What are you going to do about CC?” Judson put more of an effort into kneading Brian’s tense shoulders. Brian sighed approvingly and leaned back against him.

“I just talked to Denny Shore, their top gun. They really do love the fucking clip. He said they absolutely want the same ‘hot model’ for the next campaign, and to make sure we sign him on.”

Judson hesitated. “What will you do?”

Brian turned to look at him. “Fuck if I know. Think I should do it?”

Judson thought for a moment. “Yeah, I think you should. You received the ‘Sexiest Male Model Award’ for a reason. Even Tucker reacted to that scene! And if it leaks that you balked, there’ll be repercussions.”

Brian nodded pensively. “I guess you’re right. Now that the cat is out of the bag, I’d better put a brave face on it. Fuck Schmidt, and fuck that idiot Mark.”

“Well, you knew Schmidt likes pornography. I’m surprised he enjoyed that clip, seeing as the porn is so tasteful. Not quite what he goes for normally, is it.”

Brian grinned. “You know, he’s really done us a favor. I had a feeling CC were thinking about switching agencies before we did this campaign. Nice to know they’re coming back for at least one more ride.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“The first clip aired yesterday evening, and Shore said sales were up by twelve percent at noon today.” Brian smiled. “Besides, if they want the model, they’d better hire the agency!”

Judson laughed. “You’re a fucking genius, Brian!”

Brian stood up, slipping his arms around Judson’s waist. “Right now, I would love to drag you off to bed, and show you how a genius fucks. But seeing as we’ve got a house full of welcome and unwelcome company I guess that’ll have to wait.”

Judson pressed a light kiss to his lips. “Afraid so, lover. Why did you invite them again?”

Brian shrugged. “Don’t remember. I guess I was high, or something.”

Judson sobered. “Are you okay, Brian?”

“I will be. I’m used to dealing with assholes.”

Judson pulled him closer, tightening the embrace. “I’m here.”

“I know.” Brian pushed his hands into his hair and drew him into a deep kiss.

Gently, Judson pushed him away. “You’re turning me on again. Man, I hate that our video goes nation-wide!”

Brian grimaced. “You know what really freaks me out?”

“What?”

“The idea that Ted and Michael are wanking themselves raw over me.”

Judson laughed. “I’m glad that’s all you’re worrying about.”

“Worrying is stupid. You deal with the shit you can deal with, and leave the rest to sort itself out.”

“I hear you.”

“You know,” Brian said thoughtfully, reaching for him, “we could…”

Judson recognized that look and took a quick step back. “Don’t. We couldn’t.”

Brian grinned. “Why not?”

“Somebody is bound to walk in on us.”

“No. They all know to knock.” Brian closed the distance between them, and Judson knew he was lost.

Brian’s lips were warm and moist and still tasted faintly of Jim Beam. And then Brian’s hand was inside his jeans, and his tongue was inside his mouth and who the hell cared if anybody saw? Judson felt Brian’s free arm snake around him, pulling him closer. Sighing, he leaned his head on Brian’s shoulder, clinging to his waist, falling into the fantastic feel of those skilled fingers on his cock, sliding up and down, pulling, squeezing. Brian’s sweet tongue in his mouth mirrored the dance of his fingers and so it was over all too soon.

Brian smiled and slowly pulled his hand away. “There. One satisfied customer.”

Judson chuckled weakly, leaned into Brian for a few moments longer and then reluctantly left his gentle embrace. “Thanks. I was horny ever since you got out of the pool.”

“I’m aware,” Brian grinned and walked over to one of the cabinets that lined the wall. He pulled the door open, revealing a small sink with a large mirror above it. He washed his hands and then turned with an evil smirk. “We haven’t done it in the pool in ages.”

Judson returned the smirk. “Meet you there half an hour after we kicked out the last visitor.”

“You got it,” Brian’s smile brightened. He dried his hands and closed the door.

“Right now, though,” Judson said, closing in on Brian, “I think you’ve got a large problem I should deal with.”

Brian shrugged. “It’ll go away. I’ll just think of a dead turn-off, such as Ted doing it.”

“Aw, but I wouldn’t want it to go away. I’m a great problem solver, remember?” Judson put his hands on Brian’s waistband, closing the distance between them. 

Brian grinned expectantly. “So, what are you going to do about solving the problem? Considering we haven’t much time?”

Judson brushed a quick kiss across his lips. “Allow me to demonstrate. First, I pull open the first button, like so. Then the second, and the third.”

By the fourth button, Brian was breathing faster. Judson smiled. “You’re like the Harley. You go from zero to 100 in seconds, too.”

Brian shook his head. “No, you got that wrong. The speed of the bike depends on the rider.”

“’s that so?” Judson licked his lips and opened the last two buttons on Brian’s jeans. “Mh, bare skin, gotta love that. Instant access to the prize.”

Brian sighed and leaned back against the door of the cabinet, his eyes half closed and his legs apart. “Now what?”

“Well, now, I pull the jeans down, like this. And then…” Judson ran his tongue over his lips and dropped to his knees. “Then I show you how much I worship you and your beautiful, hot body.”

He felt Brian’s hands in his hair as he leaned forward to swirl his tongue idly around the head of his dick. His eyes on Brian’s stomach, he could see the muscles were contracting already. Brian could last hours, but he could also give you a high in sixty seconds flat. And right now, he was all his. Judson sighed appreciatively and licked up the shaft, then pushed underneath to tongue the sac. Brian groaned, and Judson felt his fingers in his hair tighten. 

Judson went back to the head, unhurried, keeping it moist, and pushing his tongue into the slit every now and then. Brian’s breath quickened. Judson probed the small sheet of skin underneath the glans with his tongue, none too gently, and Brian exhaled audibly. His hands were more determined now, pushing him into position. Judson complied, closing his lips around the head and sucking hard. Then he withdrew.

“How am I coping with the problem so far?” He knew full well that his warm breath was enough to tease Brian’s weeping dick.

“Pretty good,” Brian murmured huskily. “But you’re not there yet.”

“Soon,” Judson reassured and moved to take first one, then the other testicle into his mouth, running the tip of his tongue over the sensitive skin. Brian moaned and pulled at his hair impatiently.

Willingly, Judson went back to his dick, pulling the head into his mouth. Brian’s breath came in short gasps. Judson took him as deeply as he could, ignoring his gag reflex, and sucked more determinedly, using his throat for extra stimulation.

Brian hissed and reared up, gushing into his mouth. Judson swallowed eagerly.

Just then, the door opened. 

“Oh, Christ,” Melanie said loudly, staring.

“Don’t mind her,” Brian threw his head back, eyes closed, his lower lip between his teeth, grinning. “She grew up in a barn. Go away, Melanie.”

“Fuck you!”

“No thanks, Judson’s taken care of me,” Brian replied. “Close the damn door already, will you?”

Melanie crossed her arms and glared.

Judson got up, pulling Brian’s jeans up with him. Gently, he tucked Brian back in and closed the buttons.

Their eyes met, and Judson saw the heat in the dark hazel, aware that it was a promise for later. Brian kissed him tenderly and then looked across the room at Melanie. “What?”

Melanie grimaced and shrugged. “Andrea said the caterer will be here soon.”

“So? You expect me to go set the table?”

Judson grinned at Brian. “I’d better change my jeans.” 

Brian’s eyes travelled to the damp spot, and he grinned. “Yeah. You’d better.”

Judson stopped next to Melanie and looked down at her. “That’s how we stay in shape. Nourishing high-protein drinks with no extra calories.”

“Eeew,” Melanie muttered. “Better brush your teeth. You’re disgusting.”

Judson shrugged. “Brian’s beautiful, and you’re bitter.”

Melanie huffed and stomped off.

“Judson.”

Judson turned and looked at Brian.

“Don’t be too harsh on her. Something’s going on.”

“And you intend to get to the bottom of things.”

“Yes.”

“What did she want, anyway?”

Brian shrugged. “Maybe she wanted to talk.”

Judson sighed. “She needs to work on her timing.”

“I’ve been telling her that,” Brian grinned.

 

Justin couldn’t deny that he was jealous as hell. 

Judson had come out of the house, and Justin was certain those were not the same black jeans he had worn earlier. Brian was already pouring drinks, with that look in his eye. Judson took the glass Brian held out, and when their eyes met, the heat between them was unmistakable. They looked good together. Great. Dazzling. 

And Justin began to feel there was no space for him here.

“So,” Michael grinned, and gestured for Brian to fix him a drink as well. “What do you need more drinks for? Melanie says you were exchanging body fluids.”

“She says that, does she,” Brian said wryly. “She’s wrong.”

Judson snorted and pushed him with his shoulder, and Brian just managed to save Michael’s drink from spilling all over him.

“I saw you,” Melanie commented, pouring herself a shot of whisky.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “You’d make a good eye-witness. Not.”

Judson grinned evilly and slipped an arm around Brian’s waist. “All you saw was me getting some, sweetie.”

“Ugh,” Melanie sniffed. “Gross. Hoebag.”

“Mel,” Brian said, a warning in his tone. “No name-calling in front of the kids.”

“What’s a hoebag, Daddy,” Gus asked promptly.

Brian sighed. “A bag for gardening tools, son.”

“Why did mom Mel call Judson that?”

“You’d have to ask mom Mel.”

Melanie shot Brian a dirty look and glanced at Gus. “Do you want something to drink?”

Gus shook his head. “I just had some. Why did you call Judson a hoebag?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Melanie said impatiently.

“Why’s that a stupid question, Daddy?”

Brian frowned at Melanie. “Because mom Mel hasn’t got the balls to tell you that hoebag is also a really unfriendly name to call somebody who likes dick.”

“So she could call you a hoebag, too?”

Brian nodded. “She could.”

“But she hasn’t got the balls,” Gus concluded, and Justin almost choked on his drink. “What do you call somebody who likes pussy?”

“Straight guy,” Brian said.

“Lesbian,” Leda grinned.

“Cat lover,” Melanie muttered.

“Carpet muncher,” Justin added.

“Cat lover,” Gus looked at Melanie. “I think you’re shitting me.”

“Gus!” Brian protested.

“She says that to mom all the time.”

Brian shook his head. “You guys need to be more careful around the kids. Don’t say stuff like that at school, Gus.”

Gus shrugged. “The other kids say faggot to me.”

Brian frowned. “I guess they don’t know what a faggot is.”

“They do.”

“Why would they call you a faggot then?”

“Because when the teacher asked what we wanted to be when we grow up, I said I wanted to be gay and in advertising, like you.”

Smiling, Brian put down his glass and picked up Gus. “Maybe you should wait a few years before coming out.”

Gus put his arms around his neck and shrugged again. “It’s no big deal. You said to be honest.”

Justin could see that Brian felt his advice had backfired. 

“There’s a difference between being honest and between blurting out everything you think or feel. Keep things to yourself until you’re certain.”

“Like you, eh, Brian,” Debbie laughed. “Don’t do that, Gus, or you’ll be as uncommunicative as your damn father. Nobody will ever know what you think, least of all you.”

“Put me down, Daddy,” Gus demanded after pressing a damp kiss to Brian’s cheek. “I need to go and think.”

Brian complied and watched as Gus skipped into the house.

“He’s like you,” Lindsay said, reaching around Brian for a clean glass. “He thinks things through and then comes back with the result, rather than asking for advice.”

“Yeah,” Melanie said, “but you had to choose that fucking asshole for his father, didn’t you.”

“I think Brian’s a great father,” Matt said. “I wish mine had been like that.”

“Or mine,” Justin nodded.

“Yeah, right. Now I got all the cocksuckers ganging up on me.”

“I don’t suck cock, Melanie,” Matt said mildly. “But if all women were like you, I would.”

“Guys,” Brian complained. “You’re giving me a headache.”

“In which head, Brian?” Michael smirked.

“Michael!” Ben said sternly, sharing a look with Brian that surprised Justin. 

There seemed to be an understanding between them, and he was certain that hadn’t been there before. Not to such an extent, anyway. When had that happened? After the bomb at Babylon? Apparently, a year was too long to stay away from home. What else had he missed?

Brian shook his head. “Linds. Have you talked to his teacher about the name-calling?”

Lindsay shrugged. “First I’ve heard of it. I’ll have to deal with that when we get back.”

Brian drew his lips into his mouth, and Justin remembered he did that when he held back what he wanted to say. How often did Brian stop himself from coming right out with it?

“You tell me how come he wants to be gay, Brian? He’s six, for Christ’s sake!”

Justin shrugged. “All scientific studies suggest that sexuality is determined by that age, sometimes even before birth. If Gus thinks he’s gay, maybe he is.”

“He could be straight, you know,” Debbie said. “There’s nothing wrong with being straight.”

Brian stared at her, and so did Michael. Ben shook his head, grinning. Jennifer’s look was unreadable, but Justin thought it didn’t seem friendly.

“Straight?” Brian said. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Be a damn sight easier for him,” Melanie grumbled.

“Oh yeah? Going through the whole she-bang about white weddings and white picket-fences and black pick-up trucks?”

“You’ve got yourself a nice picket-fence here,” Debbie said.

“We’re not married,” Brian and Judson said in unison.

“He could at least try,” Debbie insisted.

Brian shot her a sharp look. “That’s rich, coming from somebody who hasn’t tried herself.”

“I was married to Michael’s father,” Debbie insisted.

“Right. Michael’s father.” Brian snorted. “Gus can be what the fuck he wants to be. I’m not telling him what to do, and I don’t want you to. He’ll have to sort himself out, just like everyone else.”

“I don’t want her to be a lesbo.” Michael picked up his daughter, who was sucking on one of her lollipops. Justin wondered why the kid didn’t even look at Michael. 

“It’ll be difficult for her to be a homo,” Brian snorted.

“She can be straight.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet, Mikey. You’ll always have something in common. You’ll both love dick,” Brian said.

“Don’t be disgusting, Brian.”

Brian shrugged. “Lots of advantages. You won’t even be competing for the same guys.”

Michael smiled brightly at Ben. “I don’t need to compete. Ben and I will be together forever.”

Ben smiled back, but it looked forced to Justin. The impression was confirmed when Brian rolled his eyes at Judson.

“Mr Kinney, the caterer says to tell you that everything is ready.”

Brian turned. “Thanks, Andrea. Find Gus, please. We’re coming.”

“Not again,” Michael sniggered.

“Once is not enough,” Brian smirked. “Let’s go eat, gang.”

 

Brian led the way around the house, and Justin was surprised to see that a large patio had been added to the front of the kitchen. A new sliding door led inside; and to the side there was a playground for the children, with a slide, a jungle-gym and a see-saw and swings. Instead of sand, the area had been filled with soft multicolored balls for the kids to drop into.

Justin instantly wondered how often Brian had those balls washed. Once a week?

The patio held a long table, decorated with a sheer blue-green tablecloth, and all sorts of plastic fish and shells, starfish and a few lobsters. The chairs had shell-shaped backs, and shell-shaped glass holders held wind-lights, while blue and green fairy lights twinkled in the shrubbery surrounding the patio.

The whole effect was a little surreal and gave you the impression you had just stepped into an underwater world.

A few ship-lanterns were placed strategically around the patio, and on the left there was a buffet with bread and butter, various salads and dressings, a grill, and a bar with juices and alcoholic beverages.

Steamer’s Clambake had outdone themselves, and Justin could tell Brian had spared no cost.

While everybody crowded around the grill, where the chef was busily preparing one lobster after another, Justin grabbed his sketchbook and started to draw. Once he had the outline, the rest could be filled in from memory.

Melanie had packed a fish-shaped plate with oysters and dark bread. “These are Bluepoint, right? Claires?”

Brian nodded. “Spéciales des Claires, Mel. Try the Muscadet with these, or maybe a Sancerre.”

“I’ll go with the Sancerre,” Melanie said. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Brian replied and went down on one knee next to Gus. “What do you fancy, champ?”

“Some fish, please, Daddy. And some salad. Do they have the one we had last time?”

Brian nodded. “I ordered it especially for you.”

Gus beamed at him. “You always remember what I like.”

“Sure I do. You’re my son.” Brian got up and filled a plate for Gus. “Here, is that enough to start with?”

Gus nodded eagerly. “Sure. But I’ll probably eat some more after.”

“You do that,” Brian grinned. “You’re a growing boy, you need your strength.”

JR tugged at his trousers. “Me.”

“What JR, you’re a growing boy, too?”

The little girl stamped her foot. “Hungry, too.”

Brian smiled at her. “We have to do something about that. Just for you, we’ve got French Fries and fresh fish.”

“Don’t give her any bones,” Melanie warned.

“That’s just what I was planning on doing,” Brian sighed, piling fries on the girl’s plate. “It’s filet. Here you go, sweetheart. Remember to come back for more.”

Justin grinned. He just loved seeing Brian with the kids. As unlikely as it had seemed a few years ago, Brian was brilliant with children. And Gus adored his father.

“What about you, Justin? You plan on living on graphite and paper, or are you going to get some food?”

“That’s right, Brian, we need to feed that kid up. He’s a fucking skeleton,” Debbie said.

Justin shrugged and tucked the sketchbook back into his messenger bag. “I’m eating, I’m eating.”

Brian held out a plate with oysters. “Fancy some? You like cozza, you’ll probably like these.”

Justin eyed the plate. “I’m not sure. What do they taste like?”

Michael grinned. “They taste like cum.”

“Go ahead, you’ll love them,” Debbie laughed. “You must miss the taste, you haven’t scored all week.”

Justin felt himself blush.

“They taste like mussels, fresh and slightly salty,” Brian said evenly. “Try one.”

“You gotta eat them with lemon, right?” Debbie said.

“Then they’ll taste like cum with lemon,” Michael snorted.

“Lemon spoils the taste,” Brian said.

“Does that happen with cum,” Michael asked, giggling.

Brian rolled his eyes. “It’s getting old, Mikey.”

Gus came over, his plate already empty. “I’ll have one, Daddy.”

“Don’t you dare give him that,” Debbie said.

Brian shrugged and squatted, handing Justin the boy’s plate. “Why not? Here, Gus, this is how you eat them. You use the oyster fork like this, and then you put that down and eat the oyster – like this.”

Gus nodded. “Can I use your fork, Daddy?”

“Yes, but you couldn’t at a business dinner.”

Justin had watched closely, certain that Brian was demonstrating for him, as well.

Gus managed to separate the oyster from its shell and brought the shell to his mouth, swallowing the liquid and then chewing the oyster, just as Brian had done. He grimaced. “It’s salty. And a bit glibbery.”

Brian grinned. “We’ll try again next year. Maybe you are a little young.”

Gus nodded. “Can I have some more salad, please?”

“Sure,” Brian got up and swapped plates with Justin. Brian filled the plate again for Gus; and Justin wondered whether he wanted to try an oyster.

“Justin’s wondering whether he likes your cum,” Michael said, laughing.

Justin frowned at him. “No, I’m wondering whether I like oysters. I know I like Brian’s cum just fine.”

“Twat,” Brian said gently.

Judson grinned. “It’s like sex, Justin. Don’t think, just get to it and suck and swallow.”

Justin became aware that this was a dare, as friendly as it sounded. And a quick glance at Brian showed that he was aware of the dare, too. Which meant that he couldn’t say no.

Justin shrugged. “Can I use your fork, too?”

“We do have more than one oyster fork, you know,” Brian said with a grin, but handed the fork over.

It took him a moment to split the oyster from its shell, and a longer moment to overcome his sudden revulsion against putting it in his mouth. Careful to keep his face neutral, Justin lifted the shell to his mouth, copying Brian’s actions.

Actually, it wasn’t at all bad. The taste was subtler than those of mussels, and the feeling against his palate about the same. Come to think of it, it was actually nice.

“Want another one,” Brian offered.

“No, thanks, I think I’ll get my own,” Justin said.

“Didn’t Casanova eat like 50 of these every day,” Michael asked.

“Trust you to know that,” Brian scoffed.

Michael shrugged. “They’re supposed to keep you going, right?”

“They kept Casanova going,” Brian replied. “Because they contain minerals and vitamins, and most people didn’t get enough of those in his day. Today, Viagra is cheaper.”

“So that’s just a legend, right,” Debbie laughed. “I didn’t fancy them, anyway.”

“You eat sushi,” Brian said.

“Do not!” Debbie protested. “I don’t eat raw fish! And those oysters are alive!”

Gus looked up from his plate, the small face a picture of pure horror. “Are they really alive, Daddy?”

“Of course not,” Brian said.

“But then how can you tell they’re fresh?” Debbie asked.

“What’s this, an attempt to spoil everybody’s appetite?” Brian shook his head. “You buy oysters from a seller you can trust.”

“Just like drugs, right, Brian?”

Brian laughed through his nose, in that condescending way of his. “Right, Mikey. You got it in one, I’m proud of you.”

“I’ve got some great Sancerre here,” Judson cut in. “Any takers?”

“Me,” Melanie said, holding out her glass.

“And me,” Brian said, doing the same.

“Shame you can’t eat oysters with beer,” Carl grinned, lifting his bottle. “I’m tempted to try them.”

“You could, actually,” Judson said. “In Belgium, they serve them with dark beer.”

“And they have them with Guinness in Ireland,” Brian added. “Let me get you a bottle.”

“You got Guinness?” Matt asked. “Can I have some?”

“Sure,” Brian said. “Anybody else?”

“Me, I guess,” Tucker said. “Just to try some.”

Brian vanished into the house and returned moments later with six bottles and an opener. “Here you go, guys. There’s more in the ice-box, so holler when these are empty.”

Filling his plate, Carl turned to Brian. “How many oysters are you supposed to eat in polite company, anyway?”

Brian grinned. “As many as you like, I guess. But five or six are enough for me, especially for the first course.”

Carl shrugged and put five oysters on his plate, and Tucker did the same.

“No lemon, you said?” 

“No lemon,” Brian confirmed. “But grab some of the dark bread, it enhances the taste.”

Justin got up when Brian did, and helped himself to some fish and a green salad. He was actually hungry today, which was a nice feeling.

Brian had just filled his own plate when Gus tugged at his trousers. “Can I have some more, Daddy?”

“Sure. And you don’t have to eat so fast, sonny-boy. There’s enough here.”

Gus nodded. “I was hungry.”

Brian shrugged and heaped salad and more fish onto the boy’s plate. 

JR waddled over and tugged at his trousers, too. “And me,” she insisted.

Brian put more fries and some fish on her plate. “What’s this, guys, didn’t you feed the kids at all today?”

“Of course we fed them,” Melanie said sharply. “They’ve been playing outside all day, what do you expect? Of course they’re hungry!”

Somehow, Justin felt that there were too many ‘of course’ in that statement, and a look into Brian’s face confirmed that he probably felt the same way. Brian didn’t say anything, though.

“Well, Justin certainly could eat,” Jennifer said, thoughtfully watching JR.

“Like a footballer, right,” Brian said, and they shared a grin that excluded everybody else.

Debbie also had her eye on the kids. “Michael never ate that much,” she mused.

“Yeah, and look how tiny he is,” Lindsay said. “I’m glad Gus is eating.”

Brian shared a look and a grin with Justin that felt like old times.

“It’s because I grew up without a dad,” Michael said.

“That’s it. Gus is moving in with us,” Brian said immediately, and almost everybody laughed.

“I’m an orphan,” Michael said. “They’re all small.”

“I think you got that mixed up with little orphan Annie,” Brian grinned. “Besides, your mother is very much alive.”

Debbie shook her finger at him. “Michael is petite because you taught him to drink when he was only fourteen. It … it stunted his growth, that’s what it did.”

Brian grinned evilly. “I guess I’m just lucky then. I started drinking the day I was born. And you can’t call me petite.”

“You know full well what I mean. You got Michael into trouble from the day you met, and you haven’t stopped since.”

“Imagine the disappointment if I did stop. You’d say I was unreliable.”

“And you’d have to find somebody else to grumble at,” Justin added.

Brian kicked him under the table, without looking at him, and Justin knew he wanted him to stay out of it. But why? Nobody ever spoke up for Brian, and here they were, at his house, at his table, eating the food he provided. Had the atmosphere always been this hostile, and had he been so oblivious to it? Or had the discord increased in the months he had been gone?

“I’m going to have some more salad,” Judson announced. “How about you, Brian? Justin?”

Brian shook his head, but Justin nodded. “That green salad is fantastic.” He handed his plate to Judson, who went to the salad bar.

Gus came over and stood next to Brian. “Have you finished eating? Can I sit in your lap, Daddy?”

Brian nodded and picked him up, settling the boy against his chest. “Comfy?”

“Mh-mm.” Gus nodded, the same faraway look in his eyes that Brian sometimes had. “I’m still thinking, you know.”

“I can see that,” Brian said softly. “Sometimes it takes a while to think things through.”

Judson came back with the plates, and filled first Brian’s glass, then his own. “Justin?”

“Is that the Sancerre? Then yes, please.”

“What are you thinking about, Gus?” Debbie wanted to know. “You’re too small to think so much.”

“My daddy says it’s better for me to think now. Then I’ll know where I stand when I grow up.”

“Your daddy talks a lot of nonsense,” Debbie laughed.

Gus shot her a furious look. “I’m thinking about being honest, but not always saying what I think. Maybe you need to think about that, too.”

Debbie looked taken aback. “Gee, that tells me,” she said, looking hurt. “Aren’t you going to tell him off, Brian?”

“No. Gus has a right to his opinion. Incidentally, I happen to share it.”

Gus looked at Brian, the small face beaming with adoration. Justin tried to memorize that expression, hoping to transfer it to paper later.

“He’s certainly as blunt as you are,” Lindsay smiled. “I always liked that about you.”

“What,” Debbie said, “The brutal honesty?”

“He may be brutal, he’s certainly honest,” Carl said. “But at least Brian doesn’t shoot off his mouth at every opportunity.”

“What, you’re on his side now?” 

“Debbie, I thought we were having a conversation. I wasn’t aware I’d have to pick sides.”

“You were criticizing me. That’s taking sides, isn’t it?”

“I wasn’t criticizing you. I merely said what I thought.”

“Some people can’t take that,” Tucker said. “Everybody always wants an honest opinion, but when you give it to them, you find that really, they wanted flattery.”

“Like that artist we met? Jonathan Harper? He asked whether we liked his paintings, and I said they were too raw. He went up like a firecracker,” Jennifer added.

“His paintings are bound to be raw,” Brian said. “He has no formal education, and what he knows is self-taught. But he has a good eye, and the emotions jump right out at you. I quite like his style.”

“What, did you fuck him,” Michael asked, grinning.

Brian looked at Michael, and Justin felt that Brian was switching mental gears. “He’s straight, not that makes much of a difference. But he’s also, like, a hundred years old, and fat and flabby. So no, I didn’t fuck him. But I’ve had a few conversations with him over the years.”

“About art,” Michael snorted.

Brian shrugged. “All sorts of things.”

“Like you care about art.”

“We all know that all I care about is getting my dick sucked,” Brian said, making Melanie click her tongue.

“That painting is the living room is a Harper, isn’t it,” Ben asked.

“What, the naked guy?”

Brian rolled his eyes. “The naked guy is a genuine Justin Taylor, dickhead. Which you should have been able to see, considering you’ve been watching him sketch.”

Michael shook his head. “When did I ever get the chance to see Justin draw?”

Brian’s head tilted back, just so, and Justin knew he was getting annoyed. “When you invented Rage together. And yes, Ben, it’s a Harper. I bought it a few years ago, but it didn’t really fit into the loft.”

“So you bought a house to be able to finally hang it?” Debbie smirked.

“The colors are amazing,” Ben said. “It looks like love on fire. Does it have a name?”

Brian looked at him pensively. “Actually yes. It’s called ‘amour sur le feu’.”

Ben raised his brows. “Fascinating. Do you remember when you bought it?”

“In 2000, or 2001. Why?”

“Just curious,” Ben shrugged, but he looked preoccupied. “Did you buy the ‘jamais pour toujours’ at the same time?”

“The what? What kind of gobbledegook are you talking now?”

“French, Michael. It’s the picture above the fireplace.”

Brian shook his head. “No. I bought that two years ago. You can see how Harper develops. There was a stretch when his style didn’t change at all, that’s when I first noticed him. I liked some of the paintings, but not enough to buy. Then he came up with ‘amour se noyant’, and I was tempted. But he told me to wait for the next one, I’d like the colors better. He was right! So, I bought that. For the last few years, there was nothing that drew my eye, but then he came up with the pour toujours series, and I can’t resist those.”

“But you only bought the one, didn’t you?”

“No, so far I bought them all, and I’ve got first dibs on the one he’s working on right now. We’ve got ‘presque pour jamais’ and ‘jamais toujours pour toujours’ in the bedroom. Haven’t you seen them?”

Ben shrugged. “You didn’t have them up at the house-warming party, and somehow I never made it into your bedroom since.”

“We’ve got to change that,” Brian smirked. “Come on, I’ll show you. Justin, you interested in seeing them?”

“Sure,” Justin nodded, pushing back his empty plate and getting up. “We went to that exhibition together, remember? Where he was showing the hatred-series?”

“And you got into the purple versus crimson discussion? I remember that.” Brian shuddered. “I was afraid we’d not get out alive.”

Brian set Gus on his feet. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” Gus said. “I need to go to the bathroom anyway. Can I use yours?”

“No spilling,” Michael grinned. “Your daddy is anal about his toilet.”

Gus sighed. “I’m not JR. I know how to go.”

They walked into the house, Gus skipping ahead of them, and Ben muttered, “I just love the way he phrases himself.”

“Too many comics,” Brian said. “It stunted his style.”

“Can you believe Debbie?”

Brian shook his head. “I had trouble believing her twenty years ago. She’s got a big heart, and a big personality. But that big mouth is overgrown.”

Justin laughed. “Carl seems a bit fed up with it.”

He half expected Brian to grab his neck and shake him like a naughty puppy, as he had so often before. It was disappointing that Brian kept his hands to himself.

“You’d better be careful. She might kick you out, and then you’d be stuck with your mother and Tucker.”

Brian put on the lights in the living room, and strip lights bathed the four works of art in a soft glow. On the wall above the sofa, Justin recognized his own painting, one of the very first of Brian he had done. He had painted that before the bashing, and was astonished again to see the differences. Not just in style, but also in expression, feeling and composition. There was a softness, a gentleness that he just didn’t have anymore. It didn’t do Brian justice, none of his many attempts at capturing him on canvas ever did. But there was an emotion in that painting he didn’t have a name for. Yet, it was there, and immediate.

The other picture was a framed pencil drawing, the one that he had shown at the Gay and Lesbian Centre that time. Brian had bought that? Damn, and he had never known.

The Harpers were something else. He knew immediately which the ‘love on fire’ painting was; the swirling oranges and reds, the screaming streaks of yellow and the protesting whites made it abundantly clear.

The ‘never forever’ was completely different. Everybody else would have placed the ‘amour sur le feu’ above the fireplace, but not Brian Kinney. Brian Kinney had ‘jamais pour toujours’ above the fireplace, and its sorrow bled blue and green and purple into the flames.

Justin felt the grief as though it was his own, and maybe it was.

Brian said nothing, but let them look their fill.

Justin sensed Ben standing next to him, but couldn’t tear his gaze away from the monstrous suffering in that painting. It was like a cry in the dark.

Eventually, he managed to look away. He met Ben’s eyes, and saw dark understanding, and vast amounts of anger. Anger at him? Then again, if that painting was what Brian was going through…? Justin shied away from the thought.

“Move on,” Brian asked softly, as if afraid to break a spell.

“Sure,” Ben said, clearing his throat. “I can see why Jennifer doesn’t like them. Too much untidy emotion.”

“Emotion is always untidy,” Brian replied. “That’s why people always express what they’re feeling, so they can keep a handle on it.”

“And people who don’t say what they’re feeling?”

Damn, he didn’t want to make it sound like he was challenging Brian, but that was exactly how it had come out.

“Aren’t scared of what they’re feeling,” Ben cut in. “And therefore can let the emotion run free without reining it in all the time.”

“Well said,” Brian said, hitting a switch so that the lights spilled into the bedroom. 

The room was different from the one in the loft, and yet, so much alike. The huge bed was the centerpiece, covered in grey satin, with black and white satin cushions everywhere. Two small tables on either side held lamps and Kleenexes, and on what had to be Brian’s side, a glass ashtray, a silver lighter and cigarettes. The alarm clock stood out of reach on the floor. On the ceiling above the bed, there was a gleaming mirror.

Brian had once mentioned he had wanted a mirror above the bed in the loft, but because of the beams, and the weakness of the structure, it couldn’t be done.

The floor was hardwood, polished and smooth.

With just the bed and a fireplace, the room was Spartan. Above the fireplace, and above the head of the bed, there were the two Harpers. Justin was surprised to find them here. Somehow, he would have expected more naked men. Then again, Brian never did what you expected.

Did Judson like Harper? Or did he just indulge Brian?

The ‘almost forever’ above the fireplace was a soft study in warm colors; they complemented the hues of the bed without overwhelming them. ‘Presque pour toujours’, indeed.

‘Jamais toujours pour toujours’ was another outcry, and Justin wondered how you could sleep underneath that. The passion and disenchantment of ‘never ever forever’ whimpered in colors, and hemorrhaged in brushstrokes across the canvas.

Justin shuddered, and Brian put an arm across his shoulders. 

“You get used to it.”

Justin met his eyes properly, for the first time. “You do?”

“Like with everything else. If it’s there for a while, you take it for granted.”

Ben shook his head. “I couldn’t sleep with that above my head.”

Brian shrugged and took his arm away. “Everything dies, sooner or later. It’s a comfort.”

“It is?” Ben looked at Brian uneasily, as though he knew something Justin didn’t.

“Who wants to live forever?”

“Don’t you, Daddy?”

Brian went down on one knee to look into the boy’s face. “Gus. I want to live long enough to see what you’re like in ten years, and in twenty. But I don’t want to live so long that I can’t wipe my own ass anymore.”

Gus nodded. “I can understand that.”

“I knew you could.”

“Is keeping a secret lying?”

“No. And if it’s not your secret, you have no right to tell anybody. People are very disappointed when you do.”

“Is asking for help wrong?”

Brian shook his head adamantly. “A man needs to know when to ask for help. A strong man can do that. Only a weak man is afraid of what others will think when he does ask for help.”

“What would you think if I asked you for help? Not for myself, Daddy, but for somebody else.”

Brian smiled. “I’d be terribly proud to be your dad. I always am, by the way. But if you know somebody needs help, and you know how to get it for them, that’s huge.”

“Even if they don’t want the help?”

“You give them something they might not want, so you need to figure out whether the need is greater than the want-not.”

Gus sighed. “That’s difficult.”

“I can’t be more specific. I don’t really know what you’re talking about. I can say more if you decide to ask for my help.”

Gus nodded and hugged Brian. “I’ll go to bed. I need to think lots, and they’re always disturbing me.”

“I know the feeling. Come on, I’ll tuck you in.”

“Bedtime stories?” Gus asked eagerly.

Brian grinned. “That’s my son. Always pushing for more. One short bedtime story. I’ve got guests.”

“Two short ones.”

“One long story. You drive a hard bargain, sonny-boy.”

“One long story,” Gus agreed, grinning Brian’s grin. “Cool!”

Ben shook his head. “That kid’s got you wrapped around his little finger.”

“Who would’ve thought,” Justin added.

Brian picked up Gus, hugging the boy close. “I don’t want to be a shitty father.”

“You’re not,” Gus put his arms around Brian’s neck. “You’re great.”

“Thanks, son.” Brian kissed the kid and ruffled his hair. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“We’ll make your excuses,” Ben offered and pointed at the painting. “Do you mind if I take another look?”

“Knock yourself out,” Brian said, carrying Gus upstairs.

 

Brian read Gus his story, but for once his mind wasn't on it.

He had seen Justin’s look. Oh yes, the boy got it. One nice big blast of untidy emotion coming right up. And Justin was sensitive. Very sensitive. Actually, probably more sensitive than was good for him.

Brian knew only too well that love made you vulnerable, he had felt the effects for six long years now.

Whatever. 

Brian sighed. 

He’d take the pain, any day. If he could have Justin.

 

Justin looked at the Harper again. “I wonder what the guy was going through.”

“His wife was like the tides. In and out, all the time. He loved her like a man possessed, and always had her back. The last time, she came back to die.”

“Do you know whether Judson likes Harper?”

Ben smiled. “He likes the painter, but not his paintings.”

“Why put up with them then?”

“What Brian needs, Brian gets.”

“Nice for Brian.”

Ben studied him thoughtfully. “I don’t know what you're thinking, and I’m sure I don’t want to know. I will say that their relationship is very different from what you had.”

“You don’t really know what we had,” Justin shot back.

“I’ve been around for a while, Justin. I saw Brian’s reactions then. I see them now. I’m aware that your feelings for Brian run deep. But when all’s said and done, Brian wants a man in his bed, and in his life. Not a boy.”

Justin frowned. “Thanks a lot for that assessment. I’m man enough for Brian.”

“No, you’re not,” Ben said firmly. “Only a kid runs away from home. A man would’ve stayed and worked it out.”

“He didn’t exactly try and stop me.”

“Did he ever? Did he ever attempt to keep you from doing what you wanted to do?”

“If it was so important for him to marry me, he should have stopped me.”

“If it was so important for you to marry him, you would’ve stayed.” Ben turned and walked out.

Speechless, Justin stared after him.


	5. Five

Outside, people had finished eating and had split into smaller groups again. Justin spied his mother chatting to Leda and Daphne, while Tucker and Matt were talking with Carl. Debbie, Michael and Melanie were all talking to JR, who kept yawning and rubbing her eyes. Justin wondered why nobody sent her off to bed. Molly was laughing at something Jim was saying, while Dave and Ken looked on, their arms around each other.

Justin briefly wondered whether to join Ted and Emmett, but he wasn’t entirely comfortable with their partners yet, and it might be a bad idea to be seen with Ted too much.

Lindsay strolled over and put an arm around him. “It’s not like the good old days anymore, is it?”

“No, I guess not. Any idea what’s going on?”

Lindsay shrugged. “All I know is that Brian was out of the picture for a couple of weeks. But he kept phoning Gus regularly, so I can’t complain. Michael keeps nagging him about it, though.”

Justin shook his head. “You’d think he knows that Brian doesn’t respond well to that.”

“Michael thinks Brian should tell him everything he does, and tell him when he goes away on business and when he’ll be back.”

Justin laughed. “Yeah, right. Like that’s a good idea. Brian will say he’s not fucking married to Michael.”

“That’s just what he said. And Michael took offence.” Lindsay grinned. “Because Judson obviously knew where Brian went, but refused to say. And Cynthia kept mum, too.”

A memory flitted through Justin’s mind, but it was faint and gone fast, and he couldn’t hold on to it.

 

The evening went by like so many evenings had – talking about nothing in particular, drinking too much and adding spice with a few well-aimed remarks here and there. Justin noticed that the ‘new guys’ didn’t do that; their banter was light-hearted and friendly. He also realized that Brian hardly spent any time with the old gang, apart from Ben, who was easily included in the new group.

Eventually, people started going to bed, couples drifting off in their own time. 

“I’m going on up,” Jim said, squeezing his shoulder. “Don’t worry about waking me when getting in, I sleep like a log.”

Justin nodded. “Any idea when breakfast is?”

Jim shook his head. “Bri, when do you serve breakfast around here?”

“I don’t serve. I asked Andrea to have things ready for eight-thirty, come down whenever.”

“Right. I’m off. Nighty-night.”

“Sweet dreams,” Brian grinned.

 

Justin and Lindsay decided to go for a little walk, chatting about Brian’s paintings, and how strange it was that Brian bought art.

The patio and pool area seemed deserted when they returned.

“Looks like everybody’s in bed,” Lindsay whispered. “I’ll go on up as well. The ride down here was something else.”

“Sleep well, Linds,” Justin said. “I’m rather tired myself.”

Lindsay went into the house, and Justin was about to climb the stairs to the guest rooms when he saw a tiny red glow-worm spark under the row of windows. Now that he knew that somebody was there, he was able to make out the dark shape sitting in one of the lounge chairs by the pool.

Brian. There was no mistaking him.

Slowly, he made his way around the pool in the dark.

“Movement detectors not working?” Justin asked softly as he approached.

“Turned off the lights,” Brian said. “Didn’t expect company at this hour.”

Above, Carl had just opened the window to smoke one last cigarette before turning in. Debbie was already in bed, but she was still awake, watching him silently.

“What’re you doing out here?”

“Looking for a bit of solitude. I haven’t had a moment to myself today, and I’ve been up since four.”

Justin pushed his legs out of the way and sat down next to him. 

Brian sighed.

Now that his eyes were getting used to the dark, Justin could see that Brian had his eyes closed. The scent said Brian was smoking a joint.

“Justin. Go away.”

Justin grinned. “You don’t really want me to go. You’d be lonely.”

Brian sighed again. “I said I wanted to be alone. I meant it. And you're the last person whose company I want.”

“You said there were no hard feelings.”

“About you running away? No. I had half expected you to. It’s what you do. But there’s definitely hard feelings about you putting the Brian-and-Justin show back on the air.”

Justin frowned. “What do you mean?”

“That little stunt today. How do you think I would’ve reacted if somebody hadn’t had the decency to tell me you were back?”

Justin swallowed. “Look, I realize that wasn’t a good idea.”

“Why didn’t you come see me at the loft? Or here? Even at work. Why did you make me face you with a pack of hyenas snapping at my heels?”

It was Justin’s turn to sigh. “Look, I’m sorry, okay. I didn't realize it was going to be like this.”

“Whatever. Leave me alone.”

“We need to talk.”

“No. You need to talk. I need some time to myself.”

“I want to know why you didn’t wait for me.”

Brian barked a short laugh. “I figured the email you sent was to let me know that I was off the hook.”

“Email? What email?”

“The email you sent a few short days after you got to York.”

Justin frowned. “I don’t remember. What email was that?”

“Quote: Brian, I found a place to stay and work. Perfect light. Nick is a good fuck, and a great kisser. Love, Justin. Unquote.”

Who the hell was Nick? Had he been drunk when he sent that? “So what. You’ve been fucking other guys.”

Brian was quiet for a long moment, then sighed, dousing the joint and tucking it behind his ear. “Fuck you, Justin. I won’t get any peace until we’ve had this conversation, right? You never take no for an answer.”

“I need to know.”

“Yeah. It’s always about what you need. So, forgetting about the fact that I’ve been up for 22 hours, that I have a splitting headache and want some time to myself, let’s get it out of the way. I wouldn’t want you to lose any beauty-sleep over this, after all.”

“Brian… tell me what happened?”

“What happened?” Brian sounded bitter. “I bought a palace and kissed a prince. Imagine my surprise when the prince turned into a frog and hopped off.”

The acrimony in the normally soft voice told Justin just one thing. “You still love me.”

He moved forward and pressed his lips to Brian’s. Brian opened his mouth under his insistent tongue and moaned. Justin felt Brian’s head move back, and the rippling muscles under his questing hands told him exactly how much Brian wanted him. 

Suddenly, Brian sat up and pushed him away. “Yes. I do love you, Justin. I always will. I don’t much like you, though. As for wanting you back – those days are gone.”

Brian swung his legs off the recliner and went into the house, not looking back.

“Liar,” Justin muttered. “I know damn well how much you want me.”

 

Fuck. Walking away from that kiss had to be the most difficult thing he had ever done. God, how he wanted that kiss to continue. Wanted more than a kiss, so much more.

But not like this. Justin was lying. He couldn't take more dishonesty. All those lies were killing him, bit by bit.

Christ, how he wanted the touch of those hands, how he wanted to kiss and hold and love… worse still, he wanted to be kissed and held and loved.

Right. If there’s a god, he laughing his head off at you, Brian Kinney. Because you're so pathetic.

Why did you have to fall for a sorcerer with the smile of an angel and the heart of a demon?

Oh yes, the fever was back. 

In fact, he was burning in hell. 

He needed to cool down, now.

 

Carl quietly closed the window.

“Poor Sunshine,” Debbie said.

Carl turned. “Poor Sunshine? Poor Sunshine! Debbie, are you out of your mind? How about poor Brian?”

“Brian doesn’t care a shit, you heard him.”

“Yes,” Carl said angrily. “I heard Brian. You heard what you wanted to hear.”

“Now, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Carl sighed. “It means that you and your little band of Lost Boys have your minds made up about Brian. You don’t want to hear or know what Brian is really like.”

“You smoke his cigars and drink his Guinness for an evening, and all of a sudden you like the asshole?”

“I’ve always liked Brian. I always thought you did,” Carl said calmly. “I’m going for a walk.”

“A walk? A walk! It’s two in the morning!”

“Yes, and if I stay here, I’ll suffocate.”

Carl went down the stairs, and followed the path around the house. He had seen earlier that it led into the distance, and was curious to see what the rest of the garden was like.

Slowly, he went down the winding way. There were low hedges on either side, the gravel crunched under his feet, somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted, and there was a sweet scent on the air that was fresh and cheerful.

Unexpectedly, the path ended. The fragrance was stronger, and in the dim moonlight, tiny white flowers seemed to sparkle. Carl stood still and took a deep breath, feeling his anger dissipate.

“That’s why we Cherokee like strawberries,” a soft voice said. “They lift your spirit.”

“Judson? Is that you?”

“Yes. Over here. Come and sit down.”

Carl felt his way over to where Judson was sitting on the ground, and sat down next to him, groaning slightly. “Did you say ‘we Cherokee’? You don't look like an Indian.”

“Native American,” Judson corrected gently. “My mother was Norwegian, I have her hair and her eyes, and my father’s beliefs.”

Carl nodded. “I thought that was a great tan.”

Judson snorted. “Most people think that, even in winter.”

“How did you know about my spirit lifting, anyway?”

“Your breathing changed, and you straightened.”

“You always sit out here by yourself, at this time of day?”

There was a definite smile in Judson’s voice when he replied, “Normally I come out with Brian, just for a bit before we turn in. Tonight, Brian needed time alone.”

“He didn't get it,” Carl sighed.

“Justin.” Judson said, no question in his tone. “The young man has issues.”

“Yes. Oh yes. Why does Brian put up with him?”

“He loves him.”

“You say that like it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t. You cannot tame the wind. When it’s time to go, he’ll go.”

Carl thought for a moment. “I don’t mean to offend you. Debbie and Michael keep telling me that gay guys love the same way straight people do. I don’t see that.”

Judson seemed to shrug. “I can speak for myself, not for others. When I met Brian, I knew I wanted him. Whatever the cost. Now that I have him, I know the price will be high. It’s worth it. Brian is worth it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I love Brian. But not with all that I am. There is a part of myself that I cannot let go. Brian isn’t like that. In work, friendship or love, Brian gives his all. If I did that, and somebody hurt me the way Justin hurt Brian, I’d die. I’m just a flame. Brian is fire.”

“And Michael? Ted?”

Judson laughed softly. “Do they love their loved ones? Or do they love the image they create in their hearts and minds?”

“Aren’t we all guilty of that?”

“Yes. But in a tiny corner of our heart, we know that we’re guilty. That is how we forgive those we love for their weaknesses. Boys need their heroes larger than life. If they find their hero lacking, they seek another hero.”

Carl sighed. “How did you meet Brian?”

“At a meeting. There he was, in his brown Armani suit, with a blue shirt and matching tie. Tall, handsome, and so self-assured. I thought he was straight. Then I caught him looking, and I knew he wasn’t.”

“After the meeting, we had a business lunch. I went down to my car and took out the spark plugs; I hoped he’d offer me a ride.”

“I went back, and managed to get in on the conversation. Listening to him, seeing his honesty and his integrity, I knew he’d not appreciate my little ploy if he ever found out. So, I crept out, wrapped the spark plugs in a clean cloth and asked the girl looking after our coats to slip them into his pocket.”

“When we all went down to the garage, he went into his pocket for his keys, and found the plugs. I was leaning against my Jeep, watching him. He knew they were mine, I don’t know how. He came over, laughing, and said it would have been easier to ask for his number.”

Carl grinned. “I must say, after watching those water commercials today, even I can see why you’d fall for him.”

Laughing softly, Judson replied, “It’s not just the looks. Looks wouldn’t have kept me so long. Brian is fun to be with, with lots of interests in all sorts of things. And at work, I have learned more from him in months than I have learned elsewhere in years.”

“What is Brian interested in? You don’t get to find out when he’s with us.”

“You wouldn’t. He always downplays his achievements, and his interests. He doesn’t want Michael to feel like he’s leaving him behind. Michael reads comics, Brian reads ‘Fountainhead’ and ‘Prometheus Rising’. Michael goes to the GLC Arts Exhibition, Brian goes to the Museum of Modern Art. Michael eats spaghetti, Brian eats oysters. Michael drinks Pepsi, Brian drinks Chablis. Michael listens to Cher and Abba, and so does Brian. But Brian also has a vast Jazz collection that Michael doesn’t even know about. Michael watches Ghostbusters and Indiana Jones, and so does Brian. But Brian collects silent films, and has seen ‘Citizen Kane’ and ‘The Third Man’. Michael speaks Burghian, and so does Brian. But Brian is also fluent in French, Spanish and Italian.”

“Doesn’t Brian get bored, hanging out with the Lost Boys?”

“The Lost Boys? That’s an adequate description. I don’t know whether he gets bored. If he does, he’s too gracious to say.”

“Why hang out with them at all?”

“I have no idea. I’ll have to admit that I’d have fired Ted’s ass about five times by now, and Michael drives me up the wall. But they’re Brian’s friends, so I’m keeping my mouth shut.”

“Isn’t that difficult?”

Judson laughed. “Only if you’re Debbie.”

Carl laughed, too. “She’s a handful. But her heart is in the right spot.”

“I know that. I just wish…” Judson fell silent.

“Wish what? That she’d stop firing at Brian?”

“Not even that. I wish somebody could see how much damage Justin has done, and instead of Schadenfreude, would feel a little sympathy for his pain.”

“Brian doesn’t want people to know when he’s hurting.”

“No. But that doesn’t mean he’s not feeling it.” Judson got to his feet. “I’m beginning to feel the chill, and you’re not used to the night air. Let’s walk back.”

Carl got to his feet, grateful when Judson took his elbow and helped. “I’m all stiff. Age is no fun.”

“If you ask the youngsters, they’ll say youth is no fun. We’re always at the wrong age to enjoy what we have.”

 

Making his way to their bathroom in the dark house, Judson almost jumped out of his skin when he bumped into Leda. “Fuck, woman. You’ve given me a turn. What’s up?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing. Is that Brian running the shower all this time?”

“All this time? What do you mean?”

“It’s been running for over an hour. At first, I thought you boys were having fun. Maybe he forgot to turn it off.”

“Not Brian. He’s into conservation, remember. Let’s go check.”

Judson pushed the door open, expecting to find the room full of steam. It wasn’t.

Brian was kneeling on the floor of their walk-in shower, head down, hair plastered to his skull. He was still dressed, and didn’t even notice them coming in.

Cautiously, Judson held a finger into the sprays. The water was icy.

“His lips are all blue,” Leda said, shocked. “Brian. Brian. Come on, handsome, get up.”

Judson recovered enough to turn the water off. Leda helped him get Brian to his feet. Brian swayed, and Judson quickly grabbed him around the waist.

“Get those wet clothes off him, Leeds. I’ll hold him.”

Leda struggled with the wet shirt, and finally managed to wrestle Brian out of it. Apparently, she knew that she’d stand no chance on the jeans. She seized the bathroom scissors and quickly cut the jeans open, starting at the hem. Dropping the useless garment on the floor, she whispered, “Look at his skin. He’s blue. Let’s get him into bed. He really needs to warm up.”

They led the staggering man through the walk-in-wardrobe to his bed, Leda snatching a towel on the way. They propped Brian up against a few pillows and Leda toweled his hair.

“I’ll get him something hot to drink,” Judson said. “Can you keep him warm?”

Leda nodded, she threw the towel into the bathroom and crawled under the sheets with Brian, pulling him against her. “Come here, Brian, you need to warm up.”

“I’m okay,” Brian muttered. “Headache.” 

But he huddled into her warmth, and Leda tightened her hold. Judson sighed and headed for the kitchen.

He came back with three mugs of hot cocoa to find Brian leaning against Leda’s shoulder, his eyes closed, the skin around them tight with pain.

“Drink this,” Judson prompted.

Brian opened his eyes and glared at him. “Are you nuts? Hot chocolate?”

“With a spot of whisky,” Judson said calmly. “You’re freezing. You need the calories.”

“Don’t argue,” Leda sighed. “We’re all tired.”

Brian shot her an unreadable look, but accepted the cocoa. He sipped, and made a face. “That could’ve been a bigger spot.”

“I’m trying to get you warm, not drunk,” Judson said evenly. “And now just shut up.”

Leda grinned at him, slowly sipping her own cocoa. Brian sighed, drinking his.

They sat in companionable silence for some time, while the color slowly returned to Brian’s lips. There was still a crease between his eyebrows, but Judson knew it was useless to offer Brian painkillers. 

Brian handed his empty cup back to Judson. “Thanks, mother-hen.”

“Careful. Hens henpeck.”

“Now I’m scared,” Brian scoffed.

“You should be, little cockerel,” Leda said.

Brian raised a rakish eyebrow at her. “My cock is plenty big enough for you, little dyke.”

“Rain-check. Not tonight. You have a headache,” Leda smiled.

Judson shook his head. “Lights out in five minutes, children.” 

He took the empty mugs back to the kitchen.

Staring out into the starry night, he thought for a few moments. His mind made up, he grabbed his cell and speed-dialed. He left a message. “He’s back.”

When he returned, Brian was fast asleep in Leda’s arms. Judson went to pick up the wet clothes in the bathroom; the jeans went into the trash, and shirt and towel into the hamper. Sighing, he quickly brushed his teeth. Back in the bedroom, Judson slipped out of his shoes and jeans, and got into bed as well, spooning up against Brian’s back. Leda gave him a tired smile and pressed her lips to Brian’s forehead, then turned out the lights. Judson sighed and laid his cheek on Brian’s bare shoulder. He was asleep moments later.

 

Judson was startled out of a very pleasant dream when the door burst open and a small bundle of trembling muscles hurled itself on top of the bed. 

“Daddy! Daddy! I had such a bad dream!”

“Gus. I’m here.” Brian pulled the boy under the covers. “You’re safe now.”

Gus sobbed against his shoulder, and Brian reached over Leda and put the bedside light on. Judson blinked his eyes against the brightness and Leda groaned softly.

“Gus. Look at me. Everything is fine.”

Gus shook his head vehemently. “Nothing is fine. I want to stay here.”

Brian smiled. “The bed’s big enough. Make yourself comfortable.”

“I mean, I don’t want to go back to Toronto.”

Brian grew serious instantly. “Why don’t you want to go back?”

“I can’t tell you. I promised.”

“We talk about that in the morning, when we’re both awake properly, okay? It’s the middle of the night, and you need to sleep.”

Gus nodded, rubbing his eyes, his sobs dying down. Then he looked at Leda. “You’re a girl. What are you doing in daddy’s bed?”

“I had a nightmare, too,” Leda said.

“Oh,” Gus nodded. “What did you dream?”

“I was cold and couldn’t get warm.”

“Daddy is always warm. It was a good idea to come here,” Gus murmured with a yawn and snuggled up between Brian and Judson.

Leda was about to switch off the light when there was a little voice from the doorway, “Dada. Me, too.”

Brian grinned. “Come on then, JR. Let’s have a slumber party.”

“She’ll wee in the bed, won’t she?” Leda whispered.

“She’s in diapers,” Gus yawned. “Mom Mel doesn’t like having to change the bed.”

Judson shared a look with Leda as the little girl climbed over her legs to slip in between her and Brian.

“Are any more kids going to turn up, or can I turn out the light?” Brian asked.

JR giggled. “There’s only us. Silly dada!”

“That’s alright then,” Brian switched off the light. “Sweet dreams, gang.”

 

Justin came down early, after a very restless night. Somehow, Ben’s and Brian’s words had reverberated in his skull, and if headaches were catching, he had caught his off Brian. Most of the time, he had been tossing and turning, and in the end had decided to get up before he woke Jim.

He came down to find the pool aglitter with light in the rays of a friendly morning sun, and on impulse, dropped his messenger bag, stripped and jumped in. He swum a few lengths, surprised how easily the movements came back to him. Feeling better, he climbed back out and walked over to the cabinets lining the wall. The first held towels, just as he had hoped. He dried himself and put his clothes back on. 

Curious, he opened the other doors. Behind the first, various sun-blockers, a first aid kit, a few pairs of sunglasses, a CD-player and some CDs. Brian’s, by the look of them. All of them were Jazz. The second cabinet held books, and Justin read a few titles. ‘To kill a mocking-bird’, ‘The Devil’s Advocate’, a collection of Tennessee Williams’ plays. Jeez. Who’d want to read that sort of thing by the pool? He hadn’t pegged Judson for the intellectual type.

The last cabinet was filled with glasses and some cups, and the ice-box next to it was stacked with all sorts of drinks, from juice to milk-shakes and beer. Brian had it cozy.

 

Justin crept into the house, intent on another look. He hadn’t really had a chance to take in the rooms properly; he had been too fascinated with the paintings.

The first thing he noticed was that the bedroom door was ajar. Surely they weren’t up already? Silently, he went closer and peered inside.

Immediately, he took out his sketch-book and a pencil. He needed to get this done, now.

Judson was asleep on the far side, furthest from the door. His blond hair fanned out on the pillow like a halo, and Gus was on his shoulder, hair tousled, and long lashes protecting his eyes from the rays of the sun filtering into the room. Judson’s hand was on Brian’s thigh.

Brian was facing the door, his hair spiking up in all directions. Justin knew he normally wouldn’t be caught like this, but somehow, it gave him a reckless air that looked good on him. Then again, what didn’t look good on Brian?

His lips were in JR’s hair, and his arm was around the little girl and Leda. What Leda was doing in Brian’s bed, Justin couldn’t imagine. The duvet had slipped to reveal that she wore only a tank-top and shorts, and she had one leg thrown over Brian’s legs.

Sketching quickly and confidently, Justin smiled to himself. Without Judson, this would make a great picture of your everyday family. Without Leda, you’d get a great gay family. As it was, what with Brian in the middle of them, you just simply got a piquant picture that you could interpret any way you wanted.

 

His work done, Justin cautiously pulled the door shut and walked back into the living room. Somehow, he remembered it as dark and brooding. It was anything but.

The wood had been stripped and was now the color of golden-flecked honey, the floor was a warm mahogany and the fireplace dominated the room. One of the walls was gone, connecting the living area to the kitchen.

The kitchen was very much like the one in the loft, gleaming chrome, expensive utensils and gadgets, with a breakfast bar separating the kitchen and the dining area. On the windowsill, two big pots of mother-in-law-tongues framed a lying glass-vase with some yellow freesias.

The dining area held a glass table and six cream-colored chairs, which stood on a chocolate carpet. To one side there was a buffet with cut-crystal glasses, a wine-decanter and expensive-looking tableware. There was another lying glass-vase with purple freesias, and for the first time, he noticed their lovely scent.

Justin pulled open a drawer to find linen tablecloths and napkins, and heavy silverware. Beautiful. Brian’s impeccable taste, Justin thought.

The entire house and garden bore Brian’s stamp of self-indulgent elegance and style. Justin turned to look at the living room.

Four cream-colored chairs faced the fireplace, each easily big enough for two people to cuddle into.

Diaphanous silk fluttered in front of the open windows, and the breeze carried a fragrance of strawberries into the house.

To one side, a home-entertainment set, with a gigantic screen hung from the ceiling, and surround-sound loudspeakers deliberately placed around the room, painted the color of the walls and therefore almost invisible. A large sofa stood in front of the screen, two glass tables on either side. Justin recognized the designer, Mies van der Rohe. Brian just loved his stuff. There were beeswax candles, and lamps hung low from the ceiling. Justin was certain there’d be no reflection on the screen.

In strategic places, stately palms and luscious peace-lilies added a sense of serenity.

The stereo was state of the art, and Justin grinned when he realized there was also a record player. That certainly hadn’t been Brian’s idea! There was even enough room for a few couples to dance. Nice. Brian’s penchant for open spaces had something for it.

Justin pushed open a door he didn’t even remember seeing before. Stunned, he stepped into a library. Crowded bookshelves reaching up to the ceiling, a fireplace that obviously backed the one in the living room, and one large window with two cognac-colored leather armchairs and a small table in front of it. There was a huge plant on the window sill, resplendent with autumn-colored foliage. The russet carpet was soft and inviting, and beige cushions in front of the fireplace suggested somebody actually sat on the floor occasionally. Brian? Surely not.

Justin picked up a folder that rested on the table. Opening it, he realized it was the library catalog. Somebody had been anal about this thing. Neatly printed, it listed title of the book, name of the author, date of print, hard-cover or soft, and every now and then, a reference that said ‘double at the loft’. Had there really been that many books at the loft? He couldn’t remember. Then again, what he remembered best about the loft was the sex, and that certainly hadn’t come out of any book.

Justin put the folder back and went back into the living room, closing the door.

 

“You enjoy reading?” Judson asked.

Justin jumped. “Shit. I didn’t know anybody was up already.”

Judson grinned and held out a glass of orange juice. “Want some? Freshly pressed.”

“Thanks,” Justin accepted gratefully.

Judson headed back to the kitchen, and poured himself a glass of juice. “How long have you been up for?”

Justin shrugged and followed him. “Ages. Didn’t sleep very well.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Judson said. “Something wrong with the bed?”

“No,” Justin smiled. “Something wrong with my head.”

“Ouch. Didn’t anybody tell you there’s aspirins and stuff in one of the cabinets in each bathroom?”

Justin shook his head. “No, but aspirins don’t help anyway. I get migraines.”

“I hope you brought your meds.”

Justin nodded. “Sure. It wasn’t that, though. It was something B… Ben said.”

“I see,” Judson said thoughtfully. “Word of advice?”

Justin tilted his head. “Well?”

“Ben is usually right about people. The rest of that lot… is often wrong. Think carefully before you do what they suggest.”

Sighing, Justin muttered, “I wish you’d told me that about a year ago.”

Judson was about to reply when Lindsay strolled into the kitchen, yawning. “Has anybody seen the kids? They aren’t upstairs.”

“They’re with Brian,” Judson said.

Lindsay yawned again and poured herself some juice. “I hope he got them dressed. Mel will have a cow if JR runs around in her nightie.”

Judson shrugged. “When they raided the kitchen for muffins, JR was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and so was Gus.”

“Muffins?” Lindsay frowned. “That’s not a proper breakfast.”

Judson glanced at his watch. “Andrea will be here any minute, and I’m sure by the time breakfast is ready, they’ll be hungry again.”

Melanie came into the kitchen and looked through the window. “What is that idiot doing with my daughter?”

Judson turned, and Justin looked outside for the first time. Brian and Michael were in the playground with the kids. They were on the swing, Michael had Gus in his lap and Brian had JR, and apparently they were competing for height.

“Not to worry. Those swings are secure. They support up to 500 pounds, and I can assure you Brian doesn’t weigh nowhere near that much.”

“Morning, guys,” Ted joined them, yawning. “I bet he doesn’t. He just keeps losing weight. Is that healthy?”

Judson frowned. “You want to ask him?”

“No,” Ted shook his head. “He’s been rather testy the last couple of weeks.”

Justin remembered that Hunter had said Brian had been in a ‘disgustingly’ good mood for months, so obviously, Brian had a problem with Ted. He’d better stay away from Ted, then. He didn’t much care for him anyway. Ted was the person he’d missed the least during those months away from Pittsburgh.

“I bet JR is scared,” Melanie said grumpily. “I’d better go rescue her.”

“She’s laughing and giggling,” Justin said. “You can see she’s having fun.”

“It’s still dangerous.”

“Like Brian would let anything happen to that kid,” Lindsay said. “Give him a break, Melanie.”

“It’s my kid, and he hates her.”

“Of course he doesn’t. She’s Michael’s kid, too, and Brian’s nuts about her,” Leda said. “What’s with you, Mel?” She opened a door and took out some cups. “I’m making coffee. Who wants some?”

“Me, please,” Justin said.

“I do,” Lindsay said.

“Me,” Brian said, stepping through the sliding door with JR on his shoulders. He ducked so she wouldn’t hit her head and then grinned up at the little girl. “Want some juice?”

JR nodded happily. “Lots and lots. And you can have my sucker.”

“No, thanks,” Brian laughed. “I’m no sucker. I won’t fall for that again.”

JR shrugged one shoulder, like Mel often did. “Wash it?”

Brian shook his head and grinned. He put JR on the bar and took the lollipop off her, cleaning it under the sink. “You ought to throw out your old ones and just get a new sucker, sweetheart.”

“Can’t,” JR said sadly. “They’re e… esh… eshpen… eshpansieve.”

“Eshpansieve,” Brian echoed, as if tasting the word. “Do you mean expensive?”

JR nodded. “That.”

“Good grief,” Brian muttered. “I’ll write you check, Melanie. Buy the kid some candy.”

Melanie glared at him. “She’s not supposed to throw out food.”

“I agree with that. But she could catch heaven knows what from those old things. It’s unhygienic.”

“She’s my kid. Stay out of it.”

Brian pulled his lips into his mouth again, and Justin suddenly felt miserable. Melanie was a cunt.

Leda filled the coffee-cups and Judson put cream and sugar on the bar. 

Brian poured the little girl a generous amount of juice. “Here you go, honey. Both hands, now.”

“I’m starving,” Michael announced, coming into the kitchen with Gus.

“And me,” JR said, tears welling in her eyes. The juice was already gone.

“Tell you what, I swap you that sucker for a bagel,” Brian said.

“She’s having cornflakes for breakfast,” Melanie said.

Brian looked at her, head to one side. “I’m not having this out on the backs of the children. Let’s go talk. Michael, feed the kids.”

“I’m not talking to you,” Melanie said.

Brian’s eyes narrowed. “My office, now.”

“She’s just tired,” Lindsay said. “Right, Mel?”

“Yeah, right,” Mel said, stomping out.

Brian sighed and gave JR a bagel. “We’re having breakfast soon. You eat this first, and then you can eat whatever you like at the table later. Okay?”

JR nodded. “Okay.” She held out the bagel to Gus. “Share?”

Gus shot Brian a quick look, as though not certain of his reaction.

Brian apparently interpreted that glance the same way. “There’s enough bagels here, Gus. Have your own.”

“Down!” JR demanded.

Brian lifted her down and the two kids went outside, hand in hand, each munching happily.

Lindsay nursed her coffee-cup, watching the children with a sad expression in her eyes.

Brian came around the bar, sipping from his mug. “Will you talk to me?”

Lindsay looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears. “Shit.” She hastily put her cup on the bar and ran from the room.

“It’s a good job you’re gay,” Ben said, hugging Brian from behind, his chin on Brian’s shoulder. “I’m not sure I like the effect you have on women.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Brian’s effect on women,” Leda said. “It’s them.”

Michael looked from one to the other. “What have I missed?”

“Nothing, Mikey,” Brian snorted. “Nothing.” He turned and hugged Ben, then stepped back and refilled his cup.

“You were here, Michael,” Justin said. “Have you gone deaf or something?”

“They’re always like that,” Michael sighed. “Don’t you remember?”

“No,” Justin said vehemently. “I don’t remember it being like that.”

Brian shook his head at him, warningly.

“Here’s Andrea,” Leda said. “You want some help?”

Andrea hesitated.

“I’ll make coffee,” Brian said, grinding coffee beans.

“I’ll wipe the table. We're eating outside, aren't we?”

Brian nodded. “A bit tight in here for everybody, don’t you think?”

“What if it rains,” Michael asked. “What then?”

“There’s a retractable awning above the patio,” Judson explained, bringing out tablecloths and napkins.

Justin slipped from his stool. “Where’s the cutlery?”

Leda pointed, “There.” She got out plates and bowls, cups and saucers.

With their help, the table was set in no time, and they settled quickly.

“I’ll get the kids,” Brian said. He walked around the house.

“I hope they haven’t fallen into the pool,” Ted grinned. “Mel sure wouldn’t like that.”

“They can swim,” Michael said. “Both of them. Brian insisted that they learn. I thought JR was too little, but she learned really quick, and she loves it.”

Jennifer and Tucker came to the table hand in hand, clearly very much in love. Justin frowned. 

“Get used to it,” Molly whispered in his ear. “He’s much nicer to her than dad, and she’s not going to get rid of him for you.” She sat next to him and gave him a friendly shove.

Justin grinned. “It’s just a little difficult to see young love on your mother’s face, don’t you think?”

“Only if you’re old before your time,” Molly replied, and poured coffee for both of them. “Or if you aren’t getting any.”


	6. Six

Bit by bit, the table filled with chattering people. Brian came back with the kids, helping them settle at the table and filling their bowls with cornflakes, lots of milk and a little sugar. 

He had just straightened when a man walked onto the patio behind him, holding a finger to his lips. Everybody stared. He was tall, even taller than Brian. He had the physique of a body-builder, with wide shoulders, muscular arms and a very trim waist. His hair was black with bluish highlights, just touching his shoulders, and he had the darkest eyes Justin had ever seen. He wore white jeans and a red silk shirt, and he was gorgeous.

Quickly, he put his hands over Brian’s eyes, just before everybody fell silent.

“Shane,” Brian said, no question in his voice. Yet, there was a quality to his voice that sent a bolt of lightning right through Justin’s heart.

Brian turned, his smile open and delighted, and threw his arms around Shane’s neck. Justin couldn’t remember Brian ever smiling like that, his guard down completely. Brian wasn’t ordinarily this impulsive. And the expression in his eyes… hurt. What was going on? Brian always hid his emotions. Who was this man whose simple appearance made Brian willingly vulnerable?

Shane put his arms around Brian’s waist and lifted him up, seemingly without effort. Justin knew that as slender as Brian was, it wasn’t easy to lift him. He had tried, and he wasn’t weak.

Brian laughed softly and closed his eyes, and their lips met in a sweet, lasting kiss.

“Now I feel better,” Shane said when he finally released Brian and took half a step back, still holding Brian’s hand. “Christ, you’re beautiful. You look hot.”

Damn, yes. Brian looked fantastic in his black short-sleeved shirt and matching trousers. The color set off his tan, and the silver embroidery on the collar and button-band seemed to reflect in his eyes. The black-and-silver belt was definitely Gucci.

“I know,” Brian said, without false modesty.

“He knows,” Ted said, sounding annoyed.

“Of course he knows,” Shane grinned. “That’s what mirrors are for. I know you know, Bri. I wanted to tell you that I noticed.”

Brian smiled. “You’re not bad. I like red on you.”

“Which is why I’m wearing it,” Shane said.

“You said you’d not make it,” Brian commented, head to one side.

“I woke up with this insatiable urge to gaze into your eyes. So I jumped in the car, and here I am.”

Brian raised an eyebrow and tipped his head back, looking at Shane from under his lashes. “Gaze away.”

Shane smiled and pulled Brian close again. They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and Justin bit his lip. For everybody else, locking eyes with Brian was a contest, or an attempt to see what his words weren’t saying. Or else, you stared at him in disbelief.

His hands on Brian’s waist, Shane just simply gazed. Brian stood quietly in the gentle hold, his hands on Shane’s shoulders, returning the look steadily. Their eyes still locked, they moved forward until their foreheads touched. Shane brushed a tender kiss across Brian’s lips, which Brian seemed to receive like a gift.

“Jeez, Brian, you had us fooled. For a moment there, we all thought you were with Judson.”

Justin almost jumped as Debbie’s penetrating voice broke the spell. Fuck her. That had been one beautiful sight.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Judson said, getting up to hug the other man. “Shane gets to share. And before anybody gets any ideas, he’s the only one.”

“Shane Shea, meet the gang,” Brian said, unruffled.

“Hi, gang,” Shane grinned, showing two rows of perfect white teeth. “Those of you who don’t know me will get to know me.”

“Lindsay, Michael, you remember Shane?” Brian asked.

Michael shook his head resentfully. “No, I sure don’t.”

“High School athletics team,” Shane said. “Brian and I played football, basketball and baseball together. We were on the swim-team. And Brian did cross-country running. You weren’t into sports, were you.”

Michael frowned. “No. Neither was Brian.”

Shane shot Brian an amused look. “Strange. Didn’t you get a scholarship? I seem to remember you were rather good.”

“He wasn’t,” Michael insisted. “I should know, we’ve been best friends since High School.”

“Well, I know you. We were all jealous. You got to hang out with Brian Kinney. Did you ever score?”

Michael snorted. “No. I didn’t score. I didn’t want to.”

There was a strange light in Brian’s eyes. Pity?

Shane’s grin widened. “You didn’t want to? What are you, straight?”

Lindsay cut in, a little too quickly. “I remember you, Shane. From art classes. You couldn’t draw a straight line.”

“Nothing about me has ever been straight.” Shane sighed dramatically. “How awful, to be remembered for your shortcomings.”

“Short come,” Brian said. “Is that a new feature?”

Shane smiled. “I assure you, you’re the first to find out about new features.”

Justin laughed. “What were you doing in art classes, if you were that bad?”

Shane looked at him, the smile gone. Justin felt distinctly uncomfortable under that suddenly stern look. “Brian took art classes.”

Lindsay laughed. “Oh yes, you took all his classes with him, didn’t you? Did you at least get yourself a degree?”

Shane grinned. “Brian wouldn’t have kept me around if he thought I had no brains. So, I worked my ass off just to keep up with him.”

“You got a degree in communications, then?”

“MBA in communications and business. BA in psychology, marketing, media and design. Somehow, I flunked art.”

Justin frowned. He knew Brian had an MBA in communications and business. Did he have a BA?

“Brian didn’t do those,” Michael said.

Lindsay shot him a surprised look. “Sure he did. Brian has an MBA in marketing, media and design. And he didn’t flunk art.”

Michael frowned at Brian. “You never told me.”

Brian shrugged. “Who gives a shit. It’s just pieces of printed paper.”

“That’s right,” Debbie laughed. “Doesn’t mean you’re any less of an asshole.”

Justin swallowed. All that talk about celebrating achievements. Had anybody ever celebrated Brian’s? Had his so-called family even known or cared? Or had he shared his successes only with the man who knew how hard it was to win them?

Shane slipped his arm around Brian’s waist, his dark eyes on Debbie. It was difficult to read his expression, but Justin felt sure it wasn’t friendly.

“Did you at least score?” Melanie asked. “Or did you exert your brain for no reason?”

Shane smiled. “Brian Kinney was the hottest guy on campus. Heck, he was the hottest guy on the planet. Still is.”

“The hottest gay guy, you mean,” Ted said waspishly.

“The hottest guy,” Shane said. “Gay, straight, or lesbo, they all wanted him. Some straight guys went gay over Brian, some lesbian ladies now bat for the straight team.”

Scoffing, Brian poured a generous amount of skimmed milk into a cup, then added coffee and handed it to Shane.

Weird. He’d fuck you and then say he didn’t remember your name. And for this guy, Brian Kinney remembered how to fix his coffee?

“So,” Melanie said, biting into her bagel, “did you score?”

“A gentleman doesn’t tell,” Shane smiled. “Keep guessing, lady.”

Somebody’s cell jingled.

“Yours,” Brian said to Shane.

Shane shrugged. “Right. Sorry.” He pulled the cell out of his jeans, said his name, listened for a moment and grimaced. “If you must.” 

He snapped the cell shut and looked at Judson. “Damn. We didn’t get it. Apparently, some newcomer sent in his ideas an hour before the deadline was up.”

“Fuck that,” Judson said heatedly. “Do we get to see what we were up against, or do we have to wait for the air date?”

Shane sighed. “No, Katzman is sending the first one right over. To rub our noses in it, I expect.”

“You don’t seem upset,” Ted said to Brian.

Brian shrugged. “You win some, you lose some.”

“You don’t like to lose,” Justin commented.

Shane’s cell jingled again, and he sat down and snapped it open with a sigh. Judson got up again and leaned on his shoulder.

There was some electrifying music that went straight into your legs and made you want to dance.

“Gee,” Molly whispered. “I wish we could have a party right now.”

Justin smiled at her, “Yeah. Me, too.”

Judson and Shane frowned at what they saw on their small screen, while Brian filled the kids’ bowls with more cereal.

“Fuck, Bri. Take a look. This guy is a genius. You’ve got to try and hire him.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Who says it’s a guy?”

“You’re right; this must be a whole team. The idea is brilliant, and the concept – wow.”

“So,” Brian drawled. “How good are they?”

“Good. Very good. As good as you. If this had been done by a single person, I’d say they’re better than even you. And that’s saying something.”

Justin frowned. He knew Brian didn’t enjoy that kind of comment. He always wanted to be the best, at everything.

Ted laughed. “It’s nice to see that somebody can beat you. And at your own game, at that.”

Brian raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his coffee.

There was another cell-phone jingle, and Justin wondered irritably why people didn’t get some other ring-tone for the damn things so that you could tell whose phone was ringing.

Brian stood up and took a cell from a shelf Justin hadn’t even noticed before. “Kinnetik Corporation, Brian Kinney.”

He listened for a moment, then frowned. “That must be a mistake, Mr Vandevriend. There was no submission.”

He was silent for a while, and then said, “I see. If you’ll pardon the expression, that’s buying the cat in the bag, isn’t it?”

He listened to the reply, and finally shrugged, “It’s your call. Get your lawyers to draw up the contract. By the time it reaches me, I will have decided. Bye!”

Brian pressed a few buttons, snapped the phone shut and turned with a triumphant grin. “Reports of my downfall have been vastly exaggerated, Ted.”

“What did he want,” Ted asked.

“He wants what Katzman’s got.”

“And that would be what, exactly?” Judson asked.

Brian gestured at Shane’s cell. “The guy who came up with that.”

Another jingle indicated that Shane had received another file. Sighing, he flicked a button. “That’s the same commercial.”

“Wait,” Judson said. “With credits. Idea, Brian Kinney. Concept, Brian Kinney. Realization, Brian Kinney. Copy, Brian Kinney. Art and animation, Brian Kinney. Design, Brian Kinney. Music, Chinnichap.”

Shane stared at Brian with what looked like awe. “You’re the ultimate whiz kid.”

“What does it all mean,” Debbie said. “Why are you getting so excited about Brian getting a new client? Happens all the time, doesn’t it?”

Judson hugged Brian, “Congratulations. I hate you.”

Brian grinned and kissed him. “Likewise.”

Shane got up and pulled Brian close. “Wow.”

Ted looked put out. “The Katzman guy is the CEO for like, the biggest producer of fucking cat food in the country. Kinnetik isn’t even really in their league. The account is worth something like one-hundred eighty millions.”

“Fuck you, Ted,” Brian said heatedly, “Will you stop discussing my business?”

“So, who was he,” Emmett asked, pointing at Brian’s cell.

“They make the equivalent in dog food,” Ted said.

“Shut up, Ted,” Daphne said, shaking her head.

“Honestly,” Leda muttered.

Brian shrugged. “I knew I got myself an accountant, Daph. If I wanted loyalty, I’d get a dog.”

“Can I put this on the big screen,” Judson asked. “I want a better look.”

“Sure,” Brian said.

Leda put the last bite of bagel into her mouth and washed it down with some coffee. “I’m coming with.”

“And me,” Shane said.

Daphne got up, and so did Molly. “Do you mind us watching, Brian?”

Brian rolled his eyes. “It’ll be on nation-wide TV from Monday. You could wait.”

“Is that the cat ad?” Gus asked.

Brian nodded.

“Can I see it again?”

Brian sighed. “Bring your cornflakes, tyke.”

“Hold on,” Shane said. “You’ve seen it, Gus?”

“Sure,” Gus said coolly, “Daddy showed me.”

“Nice,” Judson said. “You didn’t even tell us there was a commercial.”

Brian shrugged. “I needed a neutral test-group.”

“What, you saying we’re not neutral?”

“You’re anything but,” Brian grinned.

Lindsay got up. “I want to see what your animation looks like these days. Come on, Justin.”

Something in Shane’s stance warned Justin. Judson looked watchful, too. “Do you mind, Brian,” he asked.

“No,” Brian said evenly. “Like I said, it’s going on air in two days.”

They all proceeded to the living room, where Shane transferred the commercial from his cell to the DVD recorder. Justin hadn’t even known you could do that. He really needed to take more of an interest in technological developments.

Judson pressed a button on the remote control, and the screen came to life. 

Justin grinned. A white cat, curled up on a bulging blue cushion. It stretched, yawned, washed a paw, then moved over to its dish and sniffed it delicately. It screwed up its adorable pink nose, jumped onto the window sill and poured itself into the garden. A new perspective showed a luxurious garden surrounding a lavish villa, which the cat sauntered away from. It walked into a run-down house where a gnarled hand put down a chipped plate and filled it with cat food, clearly showing the brand. The cat meowed and ate, purring all the while, then curled up on an old rug. ‘Home is where they feed you… the food you want.’

This was one hell of a commercial. He’d never seen anything like it. The whole set of animations consisted only of a few lines and some well-placed colors, but somehow, Brian had managed to say more with a few lines than Picasso said in twenty paintings. The cat was just a pink nose, large green eyes and a hint of ears and whiskers, a blur of legs and an elegantly curved back and tell-tale tail. And yet, the bloody cat was sexy, and damn cute. Brian had combined his art with the real images of tin and food. The cat food looked delicious, and the can looked like it should be on display in a museum, not hidden away in the pantry.

“I want a cat,” Leda sighed.

“Why,” Judson said. “I thought you didn’t like cats.”

“I don’t. I want to have somebody I can feed that stuff to.”

“Eat it yourself,” Justin grinned. “It looks good enough for that.”

“It does,” Lindsay agreed. “I was actually wondering what it tastes like.”

Justin shot Brian a look, who had his head back, lower lip between his teeth and his eyes closed. He felt himself grow hard. Brian looked like he was having an orgasm.

Shane looked at Brian as though he knew what Brian was thinking, and shared a wide smile with Judson, who shook his head indulgently.

“I want to eat the food instead of my cornflakes,” Gus said, and Lindsay ruffled his hair.

Brian opened his eyes and smiled widely. “Thanks, guys. You said just what the ad-man wanted to hear.”

Lindsay took the remote off Judson and reversed to the last frame. “You have condensed your lines even more. Remember that idea in art class, to draw a cat in forty lines or less, Shane?”

“I remember. Everybody went nuts because Brian only needed twenty-five lines. How many have you used here?”

“I’m down to twelve.”

“Twelve!” Lindsay exclaimed. “Talk about minimalist!”

“Phew,” Shane breathed. “How many for the villa?”

“Ten. Fourteen for the garden.”

Justin remembered the doodles. Sometimes, when Brian was working, he drew things on a pad while thinking. Houses, cars, animals. Always in very few lines. He had thought that Brian was too impatient to do more, but apparently, Brian simply didn’t need more.

“You did that straight in the computer, didn’t you,” Shane asked.

Brian nodded.

“Damn. All you need for that commercial is a computer and an Internet connection?”

“I don’t need an Internet connection,” Brian said. “All I need is a paint program and a digital camera.”

“So,” Shane said slowly. “The newcomer Superior is you and your paint program.”

“Don’t forget Chinnichap. They’re English, and they’ve written about a thousand jingles. Brilliant jingles.”

“Let me get this straight,” Judson said. “Katzman hired you. Not Kinnetik.”

Brian nodded.

“And now Vandevriend wants you.”

Brian nodded again.

“Why are you bypassing Kinnetik?” Daphne asked.

Brian sighed. “Because Kinnetik can’t do the commercial without me, but I can do the commercial without Kinnetik.”

Daphne nodded. “That makes sense.”

It didn’t make any sense where Justin was concerned, and Lindsay didn’t seem to understand what they were saying, either.

“So,” Shane said. “You’ve got the contract for what, a year? And the same for Vandevriend?”

Brian smiled softly. “Positive thinking. I signed on for a decade with Katzman, and it looks like that’s what Vandevriend wants, too.”

Shane and Judson both looked as though Brian had just given them the millions he was going to make, and they couldn’t believe it.

Shane drew Brian into his arms, and Justin could see his muscles tighten. “I… I just love you so much, Brian Kinney.”

Brian sighed, and hid his face in Shane’s neck, murmuring something Justin couldn’t understand.

Judson smiled. “When did you submit to Vandevriend, anyway?”

Brian gently disentangled himself from Shane’s hold. “I didn’t.”

“You didn’t.” Judson echoed. “What was he buying, then?”

“Something I have yet to create,” Brian said lightly, but his grin was wicked.

“Oh!” Judson exclaimed. “He’s literally buying the cat in the bag?”

“Yes.”

Brian’s calm voice could have fooled you, and Justin remembered just how often it had fooled him in the past. But he hadn’t seen Brian in months, only thought about him, and time and distance had helped him to see more clearly. Brian was calm and off-hand about the things he cared about, and the deeper he cared, the more detached he seemed.

Justin hadn’t paid much attention to things going on at Vangard, to his shame. But he knew that no client would buy a campaign he hadn’t seen. It just wasn’t done. And a ten-year contract was practically unheard of. Clients signed on for the duration of a campaign, or maybe a year. Two at best. 

Unless, apparently, they were dealing with Brian Kinney.

“Congratulations,” he said softly, wondering briefly how often he had missed an opportunity to congratulate Brian.

“Thanks,” Brian said. “Keep that in this room, please?”

Everybody nodded.

Brian got up. “Let’s go see whether they’ve left us any coffee, shall we? Bring that bowl back out with you please, Gus.”

Judson turned off the screen and they wandered back onto the patio.

Carl and Tucker were still at the table, but everybody else was gone.

“Is there any coffee left, guys,” Judson asked.

“Yes,” Tucker said, “I just made some.”

Brian smiled at him. “You’d make somebody a fine wife, Tuck.”

“Thanks, but you turned me down,” Tucker grinned. “So I ended up marrying a girl.”

“And what a girl she is,” Brian said.

“I’m happy,” Tucker replied.

“I can see that,” Brian grinned, pouring coffee for Shane and himself.

Judson had to pour his own, Justin noticed. He poured coffee for Daphne, Molly and himself, then offered some to Lindsay, who shook her head. 

Leda held out her cup. “That’s some ad,” she said. “You’re still practicing art, then?”

Brian shrugged, giving Gus a bagel. “As in everything else, only practice makes perfect.”

“When do you find the time?” Debbie asked, returning to the table and picking up a Danish.

“I make time,” Brian said.

Shane had peeled a peach and sliced it, holding a piece to Brian’s lips. Brian shot him a look out of the corner of his eye, which looked irritated to Justin, but opened his lips and took the fruit. He chewed for a while, then swallowed and picked up his cup. He held it at mouth level, obviously to discourage Shane from plying him with more food. Justin tried to remember whether Brian had had breakfast, but didn’t recall seeing him eat.

Gus kept his eyes on Brian. “You said you’d eat later, Daddy. It’s later now.”

“I’m not hungry, Gus,” Brian said calmly.

The boy frowned, studying Brian with a serious expression. “You don’t eat a lot, do you, Daddy?”

“I eat,” Brian said.

Shane winked at Gus. “We’re onto you, Brian. You’re not eating enough.”

“Drop it.”

“Come on, make me feel better. Have some fruit,” Shane coaxed.

“Make me feel better and eat it yourself,” Brian said, his tone a little sharper this time.

“You’re almost as thin as Justin, you know,” Debbie said, sitting down next to Carl. “And you’re taller. You really ought to eat more.”

Justin knew that now their battle was lost, even before Brian opened his mouth.

“It’s none of your fucking business, guys,” Brian said, put his cup down and left swiftly.

Shane and Judson exchanged a look that was clearly worried, and Daphne looked thoughtful.

“He’s got quite the temper these days, hasn’t he,” Debbie said cheerfully.

Gus shot her a dark look and slipped from the table.

“Where are you going, Gus,” Lindsay asked.

“Talk to my daddy.”

“He’ll rip your head off, kiddo,” Debbie warned, grinning.

“He won’t,” Gus said confidently. “I can talk to my daddy anytime.”

 

From the time he had been here with Brian, Justin remembered a secluded spot somewhere beyond the children’s playground, and wondered whether it was still there. To his delight, he found that it was.

He had mentioned to Brian that this would be an ideal place to sit and sketch, and Brian had promised him seats and a table. Brian had kept his word. There were two comfortable garden chairs, and two small tables, one with the normal flat surface, one that you could angle. Brilliant.

Happily, Justin took out his sketch-book and pencils and got to work. First, that image from yesterday, Judson kissing Brian, and Gus looking at them with that cute expression.

The image seemed to flow onto the page, without much help from him. Such a relief that his gimp hand was almost back to normal, with only the occasional twitch or cramp and loss of sensation.

Now, Brian and Gus, Brian’s face tender, the kid’s expression one of adoration.

Next, and best, Brian, kneeling on the ground. 

He had to do that one from imagination, trying to visualize what Ken and Dave had seen from their spot in the pool yesterday. He worked quickly, trying to capture the heat of the moment. The viewer looked up into the drawing. Brian’s legs spread wide, showing off his package, framed by his hands resting on his thighs. His torso, strong and sculpted; and all his clothes like cling-film, accentuating rather than hiding. His face, glistening with water, shining with amusement and that sexy challenge, his hair spiked as it had been in bed earlier this morning.

Justin leaned back. 

Wow. 

That was one hot drawing, even if he did say so himself.

“Name your price,” Shane said softly. “I want that.”

Justin turned, surprised. He hadn’t even known Shane was there until he spoke. “It’s not for sale. How long have you been standing there for?”

Shane shrugged. “A while. I didn’t want to disturb you. You seemed rather far gone into that creative zone.” He settled into the free chair and motioned at the sketch-book. “Can I look?”

Justin hesitated. Then again, art needed to be seen to live. He handed the book over.

Shane took his time, studying each drawing carefully. “These are nothing like Rage.”

“Rage was a comic,” Justin said. “That’s different.”

“It’s still all about Brian. I love this one of him in his leathers. But the kneeling one is my favorite. Do you do copies?”

Justin shook his head. “No. At best, I do variations on a theme. But copies always feel stale to me.”

“I’ll give you a blank check for the one where he’s kneeling. That expression is priceless.”

“The answer’s still no. I did that for myself.”

Shane sighed. “Right. I’m begging here. Will you run me a Xerox?”

“You do seem desperate,” Justin grinned. “The Xerox is yours. I imagine Brian’s got a Xerox in the house?”

“He does. All this place lacks is a fucking landing strip for the space shuttle.”

“Mh-mm,” Justin hummed noncommittally.

“And it still wasn’t good enough for you.”

Justin sighed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but it wasn’t about this place. It was about Brian and I.”

“I made it my business,” Shane said sharply. “Running away is one thing, but you could have stayed away. What did you have to come back for?”

Justin got up and collected his stuff. “I’ll get you your Xerox.”

“What about my answer?”

Justin had turned to leave, but now looked back over his shoulder. “You can’t have the drawing, and you don’t get an answer.”

“Fuck you,” Shane said, but Justin pretended not to have heard.

Fuck the asshole, anyway. For the first time in months, he had enjoyed sketching, without having to worry about a single thing. Who was this Shane-guy anyway, and why was everybody so protective of Brian?

 

He stepped into the cool hallway, enjoying the dimness after the bright light outside. He stood for a moment, collecting his thoughts and concentrating on breathing calmly. He wasn’t sure he liked Shane.

“You okay?” Brian asked, and when Justin looked at him, he just caught a fleeting feeling before Brian schooled his features to neutral.

Justin shrugged. “Yeah. Just a bit hot.”

“Hot under the collar?”

“And that,” Justin admitted. “How’d you know?”

Brian shrugged. “I know you.”

“I guess you do,” Justin sighed. “Shane says you got a Xerox?”

“In the office,” Brian said, leading the way. He pulled a key from the pocket of his trousers and unlocked the door. “I don’t want the kids to get in here. Gus likes to tinker.”

Justin slipped his bag from his shoulder to a chair and pulled out his sketch-book.

“You know how to use the machine?”

“Sure,” Justin nodded.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Brian handed him the key. “Remember to lock up.”

“Thanks,” Justin said, watching Brian leave. He was rather relieved Brian wasn’t going to look over his shoulder. Some of the drawings might be difficult to explain.

 

“I’m over here,” Shane said, watching Brian with a touch of exasperation. Brian approached and dropped into the second chair with a frown.

“What the fuck is he doing here?”

“What is who doing where,” Brian shot back.

“Come off it. I’m not playing games, and well you know it. That little piece of blond shit.”

Brian closed his eyes and swallowed, and Shane felt like screaming. They were back to square one, in all of a day. Fuck Justin fucking Taylor.

“You expected me to tell his mother she couldn’t bring him?”

“Yes. Jennifer would have cheered you on and said good for you. I know that Dumb Debbie was the one who brought him.”

“Whatever,” Brian said wearily. “What’s it to you.”

“What it is to me is that he’s hurting you, Brian. Which he has done basically from day one if you had the fucking guts to admit it.”

Brian glared at him. “Leave it, Shane.”

“I’ll leave it. I’ll leave it until I get a phone-call can I come and pick up the pieces.”

“Judson called you.”

“Fuck, yes. He’s scared shitless, Brian, we all are.”

“I can look after myself.”

“So why don’t you? Start by kicking the boy toy out.”

“Shane…”

“Christ, Brian. You can’t afford him right now. You need to concentrate on yourself.”

“Will you all fucking get off my back?” Brian jumped up so quickly the chair fell over. “I’m fucking eating enough. I’m fucking taking my fucking vitamins. I’m fucking working out. I’m getting enough fucking rest. I’m fucking doing everything the fucking doctor told me to fucking do. So fucking well back off, I can fucking handle it!”

Shane jumped up, too. He wasn’t yelling though. “I see you handling it, Brian. I see the same thing I saw when he ran away with Paganini Junior. I see pain, and confusion, and disbelief. And I see the same fucking downhill slide you took then.”

Brian grabbed the table and flung it to the ground with such force that the wood splintered. “Thank you, Shane fucking Freud. I needed to hear that.”

“Yes, you did,” Shane said icily. “Somebody’s got to tell you the truth, and I’m the only one who ever had the guts to do it.”

Brian stood still, his mouth working, swallowing silently, his eyes squeezed shut.

Gently, Shane pulled him into a close embrace, feeling him shake under his hands. “Brian. Think. Do you really want to take that road again?”

“What makes you think I’ve got a choice,” Brian said resignedly, disentangling himself and walking back to the house.

Thunderstruck, Shane stared after him.

 

“Now that went well,” Judson said.

“Damn. I thought this was supposed to be a secluded spot,” Shane replied.

Judson grinned. “It is. Until you start yelling. They probably heard Brian in the Burgh.”

“Cute.”

Judson righted Brian’s chair and sat down, pushing at the broken table with his foot. “Considerate even when pissed. The other one can be angled, you know.”

“I know. Young Rembrandt was using it earlier.”

“It’s because of him the stupid thing is here in the first place.”

Shane sighed. “Reckon we can buy him off?”

Judson shook his head. “It’s not about money, you know that. Never has been.”

“So why can’t they get it right?”

“I’m an ad-man, not a shrink. I have no idea.”

“You have an idea. You don’t want to share, though.”

“True. I already look the fool.”

Shane sighed again. “Lovers always look like fools. Can you tell me why the great Greek tragedy ‘Brian loves Justin doesn’t love Brian’ has to be played out in front of an audience without so much as a rehearsal?”

“Justin loves Brian,” Judson said. “Make no mistake on that count. And it was Brian who brought in the audience.”

“Same difference,” Shane sighed. “How much weight has he lost? Felt like at least four pounds earlier.”

“That why you picked him up?”

“No. I picked him up because I always do. I just noticed that he feels… lighter.”

“You were going to say fragile or some such shit.”

“Yes. But as this spot is not as secluded as I thought, I’m a little worried it might get back to him. He can still take me out.”

“He can,” Judson said. “He took out the karate trainer last week. The idiot gives him shit about the weight-loss, they take it to the mat and next thing I know Jason is out for the count.”

“Huh. Trust Bri. So how much?”

“Five and a half pounds.”

“Holy shit. That’s way too much. What does Jim have to say?”

“Added more carbs and fat to his diet.”

“Doesn’t help if he doesn’t keep it down.”

“How’d you know?”

Shane sighed. “The way he was chewing the damn peach. He did that way back when he was a kid. Chew like fifty times, and then pretend you’re just swallowing spit.”

“He had stomach trouble when he was a kid?” Judson hadn’t known that.

Shane snorted. “Yeah. Regularly. On the weekends. When Jack came home drunk on pay-day and took his belt to him. Never hit him where people might see. Always went for his stomach, chest and back.”

“Asshole.”

“He was. The worst. I’ve no idea how Brian survived growing up.”

“He says because of you, and Michael.”

“Michael the Oblivious, and Debbie the Clueless. Yeah. They were a great help.”

“Are you being sarcastic?”

“No. I actually meant it. It was easier for Brian to have somebody who didn’t get it. I got it, and he didn’t like it.”

“Too humiliating.”

“Yes. What happened last night?”

“Justin happened, what else. When I got back in, Leda and I found Bri in the shower.” Judson shuddered. He knew the picture would haunt him.

Shane groaned. “Let me guess. Fully dressed, curled up on the floor or down on his knees, with the shower going full pelt. Water temperature: icy.”

“Yes. Seen that before?”

“I think I’ve seen it all,” Shane sounded miserable. “When Rembrandt made off with Paganini, Brian didn’t answer the fucking phone, so I decided to come and see him. I got here the evening Brian came home to find that Justin had upped and left without so much as a ‘dear John’. I managed to get him out of the cold shower and into his warm bed, and in the morning he was staring at me like I was a ghost. He hadn’t even known I was there.”

Judson shook his head. “He’s the only person I know can have a nervous breakdown in a crowded room and nobody even notices.”

“If they gave themselves permission to notice, they’d have to acknowledge Brian is human. And you have to afford a human being a minimum of respect, and some kindness. As long as they continue to think of Brian as a god, they can go to him when in trouble, and still blaspheme when they think they don’t need him.”

“Ouch.”

Shane shrugged. “I’ve watched Brian perform for years. He makes one hell of a god.”

“Really.”

“Sure. Every devout believer is secretly certain his god doesn’t really give a shit. Brian says he doesn’t care about anybody but himself. Yet, the believer is also certain his god delivers when necessary. Brian intervenes when his so-called friends are in a fix. Like any other god, the only thanks he gets is a brief prayer. So, in my book, the Holy Church of Brian is the best church there is. This is the one god that never condemns his followers for doing their own thing.”

“That’s not being a god,” Judson said quietly. “That’s being a father.”

“Cottoned on, have you? You must have had a hell of a father.”

“I do,” Judson said fondly. “My father is gentle, strong and wise.”

“We’re lucky,” Shane said. “So is mine.”

“So,” Judson murmured. “Brian is the father he never had? Is that why he can’t turn his back on his idiot friends?”

“What kind of father kicks out their kids?”

Judson nodded. “And where do we fit in?”

Shane smiled. “You, me, Leda, Daphne, the three musketeers, Jennifer and Tucker - we’re adults. Men and women to talk to, not down to.”

“So we get to see Brian in his weakness, and they don’t? Michael has seen him go down.”

“No,” Shane shook his head. “What Michael thinks is weakness is really emotion. Which is why he’s allowed to see it. You don’t think Michael ever caught Brian taking a cold shower, do you?”

“He told me he stopped Brian from doing himself in on his thirtieth birthday.” 

And Judson had been terrified when Brian turned thirty-five. And would be terrified again when Brian’s fortieth birthday came up.

“Stopped Brian? More like fortunately walked in at the last moment. Anyway, doesn’t that jerk ever keep his mouth shut? About anything?”

Judson shrugged. “He’s like his mother. They don’t know how to keep a secret.”

“I’m sure they keep their own,” Shane muttered derisively.

“Then again. Gods don’t have secrets.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Damned if I know. I thought you did.” 

Shane always knew what to do where Brian was concerned. Didn’t he?

“Ah well. I’ll play it by ear.”

“Can you keep him from drinking? We had seafood last night, so he stayed with the wine. Don’t know about tonight, though.”

“Who’s the caterer?”

“’Food for thought’,” Judson grinned.

“How ironic,” Shane remarked. “Get somebody to play us some music. Don’t do it yourself, Brian will know what we’re up to. Ask Daphne, or better still, Molly. Brian loves that girl.”

“Are you surprised?”

“No, no, it’s not because she’s Rembrandt’s little sister. She’s cute and clever, and a charmer. Quite his type.”

“If he were into girls.”

“I told you before, Brian’s into people. I’d watch it, if I were you.”

“Huh,” Judson muttered. “Now you’ve given me food for thought.”

“Disco, if you can. Or middle of the road. Stay away from the Babylon thumpa-thumpa.”

“Brian likes thumpa.”

“Yeah, but secretly, he prefers disco to dance to. Also, you can keep going longer. See whether you can put water into easier reach than his whisky.”

“I’m beginning to feel like somebody’s mother.”

“Well, you’re sure as hell nothing like Brian’s mother. She downs her first shot before she makes it into the bathroom in the morning.”

“I’ve had the pleasure,” Judson said wryly. “Wanna know what she said?”

“Let me guess. How about ‘you’re going to hell’.”

“Indeed. She took Brian’s check before she repeated it to him, though.”

Shane shrugged. “When I was fifteen, I pushed her down the stairs. Unfortunately, she only broke her arm. I’d been going for her neck.”

“Why, did she tell you that you were going to hell?”

“No. I didn’t care what she said to me. She hurt Brian.”

“Hurt Brian? How?”

“You sure you want to know?”

Judson nodded, swallowing, dread collecting in his stomach like a weight.

“She burned him. Held his hand down on the stove. He couldn’t use his right hand for weeks. My dad took him to a doctor, who said he might not use the hand again. Father was livid, but somehow, Brian persuaded him not to take action.”

Judson swallowed the bile that rose in this throat. “Good lord. And he still provides for them?”

“Brian has an endless capacity for mercy. I wish somebody would show him the same consideration,” Shane sounded bitter.

“I need a drink,” Judson said. “Two drinks.”

“Don’t you start,” Shane said. “I’m relying on you and Leda to stay sober with me.”

“You got it,” Judson said wearily. “We should still head back. He already knows we’re talking about him.”

“I know he knows,” Shane said. “And we’re going to talk some more. Right now, I think I need to go give him a hug.”

“Careful there. You might just lose an arm.”

“I’ll take that risk,” Shane smiled. “I’ve always risked everything for Brian.”

They slowly walked back to the house. Judson picked up the broken table on the way.

 

Behind them, Justin sank to the ground with a heavy sigh. His stomach was churning, and his mind was reeling.

He had felt sorry for himself, and thought he’d had a bad childhood, because his father had gone ballistic when he found out about his homosexuality. Brian’s parents hadn’t needed an excuse, apparently. They mistreated Brian because they could. Was that why Brian pretended not to care about people? Because too many people had made it clear they didn’t care about him? 

Justin moaned. He had made it clear he didn’t care. And he hadn’t, not at the time. Like a spoiled brat, he had left just because Brian wouldn’t give him what he wanted. Left Brian for Ethan. Ethan, who offered romance, music, and sweet words. Words that lied, music that wounded, romance that cheated. Had he really just packed his stuff and left, without even telling Brian where he was going?

Brian had tried to kill himself on his birthday? Before or after that stunt they had pulled with the funeral parlor? Justin groaned. What kind of sick joke had that been, anyway? Who had had the idea? Why had he thought it was funny? Why had he always cracked jokes about Brian’s age, and hanging out with teenagers?

Justin cringed. He had been an inconsiderate, cold-hearted, unfeeling bastard. He had seen the hurt in Brian’s eyes, but he hadn’t cared, because Brian’s mouth was smiling.

What had he done when he broke up with Ethan and realized he wanted Brian back? Followed Daphne’s advice. Behaved like a girl. Great. Instead of doing what a man might have done, and gone and talked it over with Brian. 

No, Justin Taylor had to do it his way. Insinuating himself back into Brian’s life and into Brian’s workplace, and ultimately landing Brian in deep shit because of him.

And all those big words, about knowing what Brian wanted from him, and knowing what he could expect from Brian? Words. Just words. And still, Brian had smiled.

Now Brian was ill. Losing weight. Not keeping his food down. Was in doctor’s care. AIDS, was all Justin could think. And still, Brian was smiling.

Justin tried to calm his breathing, this time to no avail. He curled up into a fetal position, letting his misery and regret wash over him. Time lost its meaning as he finally let himself feel the guilt and self-loathing that had been lurking in the corners of his heart and mind ever since he had closed the door of the loft for the last time.

 

“Justin!”

Brian’s voice pulled him out of his own version of hell.

“Justin! What’s wrong?” 

Hands, gentle, yet confident. A warm touch, a firm hold, tender lips in his hair. 

“Justin. Talk to me. Justin!”

He heard the panic, knew it was rising and still didn’t have what it took to respond.

“Answer him, you little piece of shit,” Shane said angrily. “He’s just feeling sorry for himself, Brian. Leave him to it.”

Brian’s hold tightened. “You leave, Shane. Now.”

A moment of drawn-out silence, and Justin guessed it was a battle of wills, fought with eyes alone. Footsteps. So, Brian won. Again.

Weakly, Justin turned into the embrace, seeking warmth. Seeking forgiveness, without knowing how to ask for it, aware that he didn’t deserve it.

Brian sighed, shifted. Settled on the ground with him, holding him close. One strong arm under his shoulders, the other rubbing soothing circles on his back. Long fingers familiar in his hair. Warm breath on his cheek, and on his eyes.

Slowly, Justin relaxed. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry is bullshit,” the answer was automatic, and expected. “Anyway, what are you saying sorry for? Having a nervous breakdown?”

Shyly, Justin moved to return the embrace. He felt Brian stiffen, then settling down again. “No. I’m saying sorry I never asked what you wanted, or needed. I’m sorry Shane is right about me. I am a piece of shit.”

Brian was quiet for so long that Justin was beginning to think he’d never reply. 

“Are you aware what that’s saying about me?”

Justin flinched.

Brian sighed. “That’s why I don’t do relationships, Justin. As soon as you start to talk to somebody, you begin to misunderstand each other. God had the right idea at Babylon. He was trying to do mankind a favor.”

“You mean, he wanted to make sure we couldn’t talk to each other?”

“Best idea anybody ever had,” Brian said.

“You’re in a relationship with Judson,” Justin said. “And then there’s Shane.”

“You spoiled me. Because of you, I started to like having company.”

Gently, Brian freed himself and got to his feet, offering a hand to Justin to pull him up. He brushed bits of soil and grass out of his hair and from his clothes.

“Here, let me,” Justin offered, but Brian caught his hand.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

Justin stopped and tried to read Brian’s eyes. Damn. The walls were up, and higher than they had ever been.

“Brian. Is it too late to ask what you need?”

Brian shrugged and swallowed. “I’ll let you know if it becomes any of your business.” He turned and left.

This time, Justin felt the pain acutely.

 

You’re busted, Kinney. You’re so fucking busted. 

Hold him in your arms, and nothing else matters. Nobody else matters. It’s all about him.

It’s been like that from the first moment you saw him. Of course you noticed him. Blond beauty, boy ass up for grabs. Like a fucking commercial, with all that vapor swirling behind him. You didn’t give a shit about the guys, and you certainly couldn’t have cared less what Mikey thought.

You broke all your rules for him, the rules that were protecting you from the very effect he had on you.

So tempting, to let somebody in, just a little bit. He was so young, too young to figure you out.

Right, Kinney. You failed to spot that uncanny combination of intelligence and intuition, didn't you. Failed to see that the cute kid had a soul that's at least a hundred years old.

Now what? 

Nothing else matters.


	7. Seven

The next few hours passed in a blur, at least for Justin. He still felt Brian’s fingers in his hair, his protective embrace. But he also remembered Shane’s voice, the shock at the weight-loss. Remembered Judson’s words, the despair in them. Was terribly aware of their resolve to keep their apprehension from Brian.

Justin thought of Brian’s quiet strength when cancer struck, and his ability to fool them all. 

Ibiza, indeed. 

“Almost didn’t make it back.”

Whatever it was this time, again Brian didn’t want anybody to know. He certainly wouldn’t want to discuss it with him. But he needed to know what Brian was fighting. Yet, Justin wondered whether he should stay out of it. Honor Brian’s wishes, this once. Or was this the one time not to honor them?

 

Unable to settle to anything, Justin cautiously removed himself from the group that was watching Brian – everybody was always watching Brian. 

Justin smiled. 

Brian was teaching Gus and JR to juggle. Gus was getting the hang of juggling two items, but JR kept dropping everything and made them laugh.

Justin recalled their first night, when Brian had been high on E. The loft had paid dearly for his attempts at juggling and standing on his hands. Clearly, he was much better at it when he didn’t do the alphabet at the same time. How amazing that the sex was always spectacular, whether Brian was high or not.

 

Restlessly, Justin strolled through the grounds surrounding the house. Brian had explained his plans for the place, but even for an artist, his unconventional visions were often difficult to imagine.

A part of the park was as formal as a baroque French garden, boxwood framing flower beds teeming with colors and scents. Looking closely and more attentively, Justin discovered the structure: boxwood lending a green border, defining the beds. All sorts of flowers bloomed cheerfully amongst the dark green. The main color was yellow, combined with hot oranges and scorching reds. Every now and then, a bed full of white flowers would sprinkle serene sophistication into the inferno. 

Sometimes, there were beds of blue that felt like a cool night after a hot day. And in every bed, there was a dominant scent, from almond to lemon to vanilla. There were straight lines, and once in a while, a fountain spraying cool water into the warm air.

Justin stepped through an opening in a tall hedge, and stopped in surprise. This was so like Brian.

Cool, logical order on the one side, and here, overwhelming chaos. Flowers, bushes and trees combined in a riot of mutinous color.

Instantly, he knew that this part of the garden was his favorite. He felt close to Brian here, the Brian he had once known. Insubordinate, willful and assertive Brian.

Why had he tried so hard to discourage these qualities when he admired them so much? Because he had felt threatened by Brian’s utter vivacity?

Justin sighed. Maybe he needed to figure out who he was, before he could start figuring out Brian.

 

Jennifer watched her son’s return, and sighed at the rejected slump of his shoulders. How old was he? Twenty-four? Hard to believe, really. He had been more of an adult at seventeen. More capable.

So, what had happened? Brian had happened, yes. But Brian had brought out the best qualities in Justin. The boy Brian had fallen in love with had been brave, firm in his convictions. Had loved unconditionally.

When had Justin started to put a stipulation on his emotions? Who had corrupted her beautiful son, and why had she not noticed?

Justin settled in a deck-chair away from the others, his expression seemed to indicate he was miles away. When Michael and Ted joined him, he seemed friendly, but a little reluctant.

Jennifer looked at Brian, who was talking to Jim, but had his eyes on Justin. Oh-oh. She had seen that face before. The face that was a mask, behind which Brian Kinney hid the vortex of his feelings. Jennifer knew a bit about Brian by now, and the expression of cool indifference was one that meant the exact opposite – Brian didn’t like what he saw.

Sighing, Jennifer got to her feet and joined the three men, overhearing the last snatches of their conversation.

“We’ll get rid of Judson, you’ll see,” Michael said confidently.

“Why would you want to,” Justin said wearily, “He seems nice enough.”

“He’s an asshole. Keeps threatening to fire me when Brian’s not looking,” Ted grumbled.

“Justin.”

Jennifer almost laughed when Justin looked up at her hopefully. He had had the same look when he was five, a look that said, “Will you please get me out of here, mom!”

“Fancy a swim?”

Justin jumped up. “Sure, I’d love to. Excuse me, guys.”

They walked to the pool together, Justin already pulling his T-shirt over his head. Amused and dismayed, Jennifer noticed that Brian was turning his back on them.

Justin threw off his jeans, and Jennifer noted with some relief that he was wearing swimming trunks underneath. She wouldn’t have put it past him to go skinny-dipping. She drew her sun-dress over her head and followed Justin into the pool.

They settled into a rhythm that suited them both, comfortably moving along side by side.

“That’s a good idea,” Leda said and jumped in as well. She easily matched their pace, and Jennifer suspected that she could have outdone them without even losing her breath.

After a while, Ken and Dave joined them, and so did Jim. Shane and Judson followed with Tucker, and soon, the men started splashing. Within moments, they were in full battle mode, and Jennifer and Leda laughed and got out of the pool.

Ben and Brian exchanged glances and grinned. “Boys will be boys,” Jennifer heard Ben say in a low voice.

“Surplus energy,” Brian replied. “Don’t you remember puberty?”

Jennifer toweled her hair, dried herself and slipped her dress back on over her damp bikini. 

In the short time it had taken her, Jim had left the water and the tone in the pool had changed from banter to earnest. Now there were two groups, Justin and Tucker on one side, and the other four men fighting them. They seemed far more interested in dousing Justin than in involving Tucker. Shane and Judson really had it in for her son, and Ken and Dave were helping them. Justin was still laughing, but Jennifer saw that he kept going under and, as a result, was swallowing quite a bit of water.

She was about to intervene when she saw Brian strip and dive in, instantly taking Justin’s side. Three against four almost evened the odds, and Jennifer was relieved to see that Justin was able to catch his breath.

“Guys! Dinner is here!” Debbie yelled. “Get out of the pool before we eat it all!”

Laughing and splashing, the men climbed out, grabbed towels to dry themselves and put their clothes back on.

Everybody moved to the patio, where ‘Food for Thought’ had arranged their marvelous selection of fresh salads and sandwiches, and where the chef was busily frying burgers and steaks.

Jennifer pretended to dig for something in her bag and lingered, hoping to check on Justin, but Brian put an arm around him and drew him away. Just as well, she thought, seeing the adoring look on her son’s face.

“Did you see that,” Shane muttered.

“Hard to miss,” Judson said. “That tells us.”

“Idiots,” Jim said kindly. “Did you think he’d let you drown him?”

“We wanted to know what he’d do.”

“Like you didn’t know what he’d do,” Jim sighed. “Don’t start a competition. You’ll lose. Worse, Brian will lose.”

Shane nodded. “You’re right. I lost my head there.”

Jim shrugged. “You can’t afford to. Get a grip, and get over your jealousy.”

“I’m not…” Shane protested.

“Save it,” Jim sounded annoyed. “Don’t try to convince me, convince him.”

Exchanging angry glances, they vanished, and Jennifer got to her feet and sighed.

Tucker came up from behind and hugged her. “What’s going on here, Jen?”

“I don’t know,” Jennifer said wearily. “I don’t understand where Brian’s coming from.”

Tucker shrugged. “There are already too many people meddling in his affairs. Let’s stay out of it. If he wants us, he’ll let us know.”

 

When they arrived at the table, Jennifer saw Brian sitting between Justin and Gus, all three of them laughing and joking. Brian was eating some vegetable salad, and Justin and Gus had burgers.

Michael was grinning at Justin, and frowned when Judson sat on Justin’s other side. Judson frowned back, and started to eat his steak. Shane took the place next to Gus, and the boy smiled up at him.

 

“You know, Justin, we ought to revive Rage,” Michael said, who had filled his plate to overflowing. He was actually getting a bit of a pouch, Justin thought.

“Really,” Justin said cautiously, with a sidelong glance at Brian, who was talking to Gus and didn’t seem to pay attention to them.

“I have some great new ideas,” Michael bubbled enthusiastically. “Remember how we married Rage to JT?”

Oh yes, he remembered that. Disastrous idea.

Justin didn’t think that reviving Rage was a good proposal, and now was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable, especially as he was close enough to Brian to feel him tense. 

“So?” He hoped that monosyllable answers might give Michael a hint.

“How about Rage has this illness, and it makes him impotent. Zephyr gets him this magical tea, from Asia. The old magician who gives it to him says it’ll light the fire again. Now Rage can get it up again, and to prove he’s still a man, he cheats on JT,” Michael said, stuffing some creamy coleslaw into his mouth and talking around it. “And of course, JT leaves.”

Justin didn’t reply, he took a large bite of his burger instead, trying to keep his eyes away from Brian. Certainly he must be seething by now? After all this time, idiot Michael had given away the fact that he had confided in him about Brian’s impotence. Great going. He might as well jump off a roof now.

Oblivious to the increasing silence at the table, Michael kept it up. “And then JT gets back, but now Rage is with this other guy, Scott Hudson, who has stolen all his powers, and Rage hasn’t even noticed. And there’s this new villain, Stale Shame, who helps him keep control of Rage. It’s like, you know, Rage is totally blind to what’s going on. He doesn’t even see Zephyr much anymore.”

Michael put more of the coleslaw into his mouth. Justin had always hated the way he handled his flatware. Gus already had better table-manners.

“Anyway, JT realizes that something is wrong. He tries to tell Rage, but Rage won’t listen, because this new guy has like, this mental hold over him. And of course, Rage thinks JT just wants to get rid of his new lover.”

By now, the silence was ominous. Michael didn’t notice. Chewing with his mouth open, he continued, “So, JT has to come up with this clever plan. I thought maybe he can give those two villains some deadly disease, you know? Zephyr’s lover Ken Kirschner has discovered this ancient virus in dinosaur cadavers. Something that starts slow, like AIDS, and goes unnoticed for a long time, so that they won’t know where it came from. And then, like, they die this horrible, painful death, and Rage is free from their influence, and then Rage and JT can get back together. What do you think?”

“That’s brilliant, Mikey,” Brian said, his voice tight. “How do you keep coming up with these astonishing plots? It’s almost like art imitating life.”

Ben discreetly moved his chair away from Michael, and Justin had the impression Ben was expecting some sort of explosion.

“Thanks, Brian. I’m really glad you like it,” Michael grinned; Brian’s sarcasm clearly went straight over his head. Enthusiastically, he shoveled more food into his mouth, his chin almost in his plate. His fork halfway to his full mouth, he looked at Brian with those annoying puppy-dog eyes. “Are you going to help us with advertising again?”

Justin thought he’d faint, and now Ted moved his chair away from Michael, too.

“Sure, Mike,” Brian said, smiling. His lids were fluttering, though. “I’d love to. I can’t wait to repeat the experience.”

Justin noticed that everybody avoided each other’s eyes, and nobody dared look at Brian.

As always when Brian praised him, Michael beamed. 

Justin felt like hitting him, hard. Where it hurt.

“Maybe this time, Hollywood will make a film out of it.”

Justin put down his burger. He couldn’t eat another bite. He realized that Brian hadn’t finished his salad, but had just poured himself the third whisky. Fuck Michael.

“You deserve to go to Hollywood with this, Michael. Strong social statement, passable plot and charming characterization. It’s bound to be a blockbuster.”

“Shame the hero is cardboard,” Ben said icily.

Michael looked hurt. “What do you mean by that?”

Ben shrugged. “The first two or three comics were really good where the Rage character is concerned. But then you lost the feel for him, you became too interested in statements about Zephyr and JT.”

“But they’re his friends,” Michael protested. “Of course we were interested in them.”

“Rage is the hero of the comics, not Zephyr, not JT. They’re just extras. It’s not the villains that kept taking Rage’s powers away from him, it’s the writing.”

“Are you saying my writing is bad?” Michael sounded indignant:

“Your writing sucks,” Ben said evenly.

“Brian loves it,” Michael said. “Who cares what you think.”

Brian shrugged. “What do I know, Mikey. I’m an ad-man, not a literature critic.”

“I agree with Ben,” Ken said. “You lost me when Rage and JT got married.”

“Well, that was the last comic, anyway,” Michael said, sounding confused. “Why didn’t you like that? It was romantic.”

Brian shot him a quick look, and Justin could almost hear him say, “Ridiculously romantic.”

“Romantic,” Dave scoffed. “You had this brilliant gay guy, strong, hot, unapologetic. He was the personification of what being gay is all about – and then you turned him into a straight man, who wanted nothing but a little wife and a cozy home, and to come home in the evening to a pair of warm slippers and a cold beer in front of the TV.”

Jim grinned. “I was expecting them to adopt a kid and get a dog.”

“And plant some tulips in the front garden,” Matt added.

Michael frowned. “What’s wrong with that? Most of us want that. We all need some stability.”

“Yeah,” Justin said. “But Rage was hot because he didn’t want it, or need it.”

“Oh, thanks,” Michael huffed. “I thought we agreed when we did the comic.”

Justin shrugged. “I plead temporary insanity. I wasn’t even thinking about Rage, or what he would want. I was thinking about myself, and what I wanted.”

Michael stared at him. “If that’s what you wanted, why didn’t you stay and marry him?”

Justin felt the movement go through Brian, like a shock wave.

“Whoa. We’re discussing Rage, not Brian,” Shane said.

“Both,” Michael said angrily. “They’re one and the same.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t. I wouldn’t be caught dead in that outfit, and I’m definitely not spending my nights defending a bunch of queers who can’t look after themselves.”

Emmett smiled at him. “Honey, what a liar you are. You’re the guardian angel of Liberty Avenue, we all know that.”

“More like, the fucking fiend of Liberty Avenue,” Debbie laughed.

“Thanks, Debbie,” Brian said. “It’s nice to have at least one person uphold my virtue.”

“Debbie isn’t gay,” Emmett said. “What does she know.”

“Hey,” Debbie protested. “I’m every bit as gay as you are.”

“Why would you want to be gay? You’d still end up liking dick,” Matt said, sounding confused.

“It’s not about having any old dick,” Ted said conspiratorially, “It’s whose dick she wants for herself.”

Debbie jumped up and slapped his face. “How dare you, Teddy! How dare you!”

“Go get him some ice,” Brian said to Blake. “She’s got one hell of a right hook.”

Blake grinned and went into the house.

“Why did she hit Ted, Daddy,” Gus asked, big eyes going from Debbie to Ted.

Brian shrugged. “Damned if I know. Why did you hit Ted, Debbie?”

“Because I know whose dick she really wants,” Ted said angrily. “I’ve known for years.”

Blake returned with some ice in a dishtowel and pressed it against Ted's face.

“So tell us, Mom,” Michael grinned. “Whose dick are you after?”

“Carl’s, I should hope,” Brian said calmly.

“Come on, Mom,” Michael goaded, “You can tell us. We’re all friends here.”

“Yeah,” Ben said, an angry light in his eyes. “And you know all our secrets, after all.”

Justin wondered at the fierce expression, and was surprised when he felt Brian squirm. What was going on?

“I just like dick,” Debbie said defensively. “I can be gay.”

“Well, we already know you like dick,” Brian grinned. “Problem is, you lack dick. So, you can’t be gay. And because you like dick, you can’t be a lesbo. Tough luck, Debbie – whatever you do, you end up a straight gal.”

“That still doesn’t tell us whose dick she wants,” Michael laughed. “I’m really curious. So come on, Mom, tell us. Is it mine?”

“What’s with you, Michael, you got a death wish or something?” Brian said, shaking his head at Michael.

Debbie gave him a hard look. “You leave my boy alone, Brian, you hear?”

Brian drew back, throwing up his hands. “Icky Micky is safe from me, Debbie, I swear.”

“Yeah, and how he wishes he wasn’t,” Ted echoed Justin’s thoughts.

“Who doesn’t,” Leda said calmly. “All you guys want to get into Brian’s pants.”

“And some of us, including some ladies, want to be in Brian’s pants,” Ted said.

“Hardly surprising. Not everybody wears Armani like Brian does,” Shane said.

“No, I meant they want to be Brian.”

“Why do they want to be you, Daddy,” Gus asked, his eyes wide.

“I have no idea, sonny-boy,” Brian said evenly, but his eyes seemed to be flashing.

Gus frowned. “Do you like being you?”

“Yes,” Brian said. “I am who I want to be.”

“You mean you want to be an unfeeling, uncaring asshole who only thinks about getting his dick sucked?”

“Yes, Debbie, that’s exactly it. As always, you see through me right to the bottom of my black soul.”

“But it’s not true,” Gus said. “You care. Lots.”

“Shh,” Brian stage-whispered. “That’s a secret.”

“Who does he care about, Gus, you tell us,” Debbie said.

Gus shrugged. “I can’t tell you. Daddy just said it’s a secret.”

Debbie laughed. “That’s because you don’t know, right?”

Gus looked down his nose at her. “I know. I’m not telling.”

“Well, I know who he doesn’t care about. He doesn’t give a shit about his friends, Ted, Emmett or Michael.”

“That’s not true, Mom,” Michael said unhappily.

“Brian cares, Debbie.” Emmett said, raising his eyebrows. “He just doesn’t show it the way you do.”

“He just doesn’t show it,” Debbie laughed. “That’s a good one. And he sure as hell doesn’t care shit about Sunshine.”

Justin felt Brian actually flinch, and said, “Leave me out of it, Debbie, you don’t know fuck.”

Debbie raised her eyebrows at him. “I don’t know fuck? Then why are you living with us, rather than with Brian?”

“Mind your own fucking business, Debbie,” Brian said sharply. 

“As long as he’s living with me, it is my business,” Debbie said angrily.

“Guess what. He’s just moved out,” Brian said coldly. “So fucking stay out of it.”

“Oh, so where are you going, Sunshine,” Debbie asked. “Back to being the back-up plan for the nights when Brian can’t get a trick?”

Justin felt heat flood him, then had to suppress a shiver when ice seemed to trickle down his spine.

Brian had paled, even his lips were white. 

Justin had seen that only once, when Brian was almost out of control with fury. They had nearly come to blows. 

Stiffly, Brian got up and went into the house, his back rigid.

“Christ, Mom, what got into you,” Michael said.

“Brian can always get a trick,” Judson said and draped an arm around him; and only then Justin realized he was shaking violently. “The trick is to get Brian.”

Everybody else was quiet, looking at each other uncomfortably.

Carl shook his head at Debbie. “Now your big mouth has gone too far, Debbie, even for you. I think you should go apologize.”

“Apologize? For what, for telling the truth?”

“Whose truth,” Jennifer said. 

Surprised, Justin saw that his mother had tears in her eyes.

Debbie narrowed her eyes at her. “What kind of a mother are you, anyway? Why do you let him get away with hurting your kid?”

“Good lord, Debbie,” Justin realized his voice sounded weary. “Has it occurred to you that I was the one hurting Brian?”

“You,” Debbie asked incredulously. “What did you do?”

Justin got to his feet, suddenly feeling as though he were a thousand years old. “I left.”

 

He walked into the house, wondering where to find Brian. 

Bedroom? Unlikely. Living room? No way. The office, then.

Quietly, he pushed at the door. Open. He went into the dark room and closed the door, turning the key to lock it.

Brian was standing in the window, smoking.

Moving quietly, Justin crossed the room and stood next to him.

“Don't say anything,” Brian said, his voice strangled.

Justin slipped an arm around his waist and squeezed. He registered that Brian felt impossibly slim. 

Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the gloom.

They stood like that for some time, while Brian finished his cigarette. 

Justin watched him stub it out, and was surprised when Brian turned and pulled him close. He laid his head against Brian’s chest, and listened to his heartbeat. Fast, too fast. Brian was still upset. 

He felt Brian rest his chin in his hair, and tightened his hold. Brian exhaled on a sigh.

An eternity passed, and in the heavens, stars died, and stars were born. Justin felt that with the same inevitability, the emotion that held them strengthened their bond.

Finally, Brian lifted his head and drew back a little. He grasped his neck and looked into his eyes, and Justin felt at home for the first time in over a year.

“Listen to me, Justin. Are you listening?”

“I’m listening,” Justin said softly. Now what?

“Justin. You were never a back-up plan. Never.”

Justin almost laughed. Trust Brian. When had he stopped noticing that it was rarely about what Brian wanted, or what Brian felt? Brian couldn’t stand others to feel bad, and would go out of his way to heal the damage.

“I know, Brian. Do you think I don’t know that?”

“I don’t know what you know,” Brian said quietly.

Justin heard the unspoken words, the words that whispered ‘you never told me’. 

His eyes filled with tears. Gently, cautiously, he moved closer. Brian didn’t resist when his lips closed over his mouth. Tenderly, Justin ran his tongue over Brian’s lips, tasting smoke and whisky and something salty. Pushing with the tip of his tongue, Justin opened Brian's lips and slipped into his warm mouth. Brian sighed, his hands tangling in Justin's hair. Their tongues danced together, easily falling into the old rhythm. Brian groaned, hungrily deepening the kiss, and the dance of tongues became a battle of wills.

Just when Justin thought that Brian would push him to his knees, Brian extracted himself, taking several steps back.

“I won’t, Justin.” His voice shook.

“Why not? You want.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

And again, Justin heard words unspoken, words that Brian was too objective to say. ‘You never asked’.

“Then tell me what you want.”

Brian shook his head. “I don’t see the point, Justin. Why go back? You’ll still dream of children, picket-fences, puppies and weddings.”

“You wanted to marry me.”

“I didn’t. You wanted to marry me, and I wanted to give you what you wanted.”

Startled, Justin tried to read Brian's expression in the dim light. “I… I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

“That I was a fool over you,” Brian said bitterly. “If you had asked for the moon, I would have found a way to gift-wrap it for you. You wanted a monogamous relationship, wedding bells and a house in the country. I was willing to give you all that.”

“You do love me.”

“Listen, Justin,” Brian said resolutely. “I was willing to put my life on the line. You weren’t.”

“I wanted to be with you,” Justin said hesitantly, aware that he hadn’t even been able to justify his actions to himself. How could he hope to validate his behavior to Brian?

Brian sighed. “Yet, you went to New York. Are you lying to me, or to yourself?”

“You agreed that it was a big chance.”

Brian bit his lip, and said nothing.

“Out with it,” Justin said. “You’re holding back.”

Brian shrugged. “I didn’t say it then, why say it now.”

“Say what?” Justin asked desperately. “We never, never talked like this before, are you aware of that?”

“Because it's bullshit.”

“Why is it bullshit, Brian? How are we supposed to understand each other when we don’t talk?”

“Talking is for dykes.”

He should have expected that answer, Justin realized. 

So, why didn’t Brian like to talk? Justin mulled that over for a while. 

Brian stayed silent.

“I think I got it,” Justin said finally. “When you talk, you say exactly what you think. You’re painfully honest, even when it hurts you. You just don’t want to give people more ammunition. So, you listen. Everybody gives you shit, and you keep listening. When you can’t take it anymore, you walk away. Instead of giving them a piece of your mind, for a change.”

“I like my mind intact, thank you. I’m not giving away pieces of myself.”

Justin caught his breath. Think honesty, he told himself. He’s saying exactly what he means, and he means what he says. So… somebody who won’t give away pieces… gives away the whole? Nothing? Everything?

“Brian. What was it you didn’t say?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I do, I do want to know.”

Brian sighed. “And as always, you’re not going to shut up about it, are you.”

“You know I won’t,” Justin shook his head.

“What the hell,” Brian said resignedly. “What I didn’t say then, and what I wouldn't have said now is that you could have married me, and still gone to New York. Alternatively, you could have asked me to go to New York with you.”

“You wouldn’t have.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“If I had asked, would you have come? Given up Kinnetik?”

“I had already told you. I was willing to give up the loft, and Babylon. Kinnetik could have gone to New York with us.”

Justin bit his lip. It had never occurred to him that Brian would have followed him to New York. Why not? How stupid was he? Brian had actually always wanted to go to New York!

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

Brian sighed. “Fuck you, Justin. You make me feel like I’m your goddamn father. Why do I have to teach you how to think for yourself? You didn’t think of taking me because you didn't want to. It was your dream, and you didn’t want to share. Face it, Justin. You didn’t want me.”

Justin felt as though Brian had slapped him. “But… I do want you.”

Brian took a deep breath, but said nothing.

“Say it, Brian.”

“You won't like it.”

“No big deal,” Justin said bitterly. “I just realized I don't much like myself right now. Help me understand why you don’t.”

“Why not. You already have everything else, why not throw in my pride as well.” Brian swallowed.

“My notorious narcissism wouldn’t let me see what you really wanted from day one. I was a new toy. You wanted Brian Kinney, an adult, a successful ad-man, owner of a nice loft and a wardrobe full of Armani suits. Like any kid, you wanted to show off your shiny new plaything to your friends, so you invited me to your prom. Like the rube I am,” Brian sighed, “I turned up, when every instinct told me to stay the hell away.”

“You pulled my strings, just because you realized you could. You set the rules, and fool that I am, I stuck by them even when you didn’t.”

“You left me for Hollywood, and if the film had been made, you wouldn't have come back. I heard the lies in your voice when you phoned.”

“But you did come back, and I truly thought that this time, we'd get it right. Then you saw babies, and the Stepford Ersatz-heteros, and bingo, you’d found a new toy. I wouldn't go there, and you left.”

“After the bomb at Babylon, I wanted to keep you safe, I wanted you back. So I was ready to give you what you kept telling me you wanted.”

“Only, Lindsay dangled yet another new toy in front of you, and again, you left. And now I’m through waiting, Justin. I won’t waste my life waiting for you while you try out new diversions.”

“You love me,” Justin realized he sounded like a fool.

“So? Love is not enough. You think you're a man, but you’re only a boy. I prefer men.”

“Where does that leave us?” Justin asked anxiously.

“What makes you think there is an us, Justin? I’ve been hoping for you to grow up, but I’m getting tired of it.”

“You don’t want to grow up.”

“I’m grown-up,” Brian said calmly. “I’ve been a grown-up for some twenty years. I have my affairs in order, I’m a successful business-man, and I know who I am and what I want. I don’t want to grow old. I don’t want to become the Pittsburgh version of Rage, a fag who doesn't like cock anymore because his boy toy castrated him.”

Justin shook his head, biting his lip against the tears that threatened to fall. Fuck, why did he always have to bawl like some little faggot?

Brian pulled him into his arms, shielding him. “Don’t cry,” he murmured softly. “You asked.”

He clung to Brian, trying not to think about what Brian had told him, and conscious that he must.

“I know that sorry is bullshit, Brian,” Justin whispered. “Will you ever forgive me?”

He heard Brian swallow, and felt his hold tighten.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Justin. My vanity brought us here. Anybody less self-absorbed wouldn't have fallen for the flattery of a seventeen-year old boy.”

The pain went from stinging to all-consuming.

“Shut up,” Justin tilted his head back to look into Brian’s eyes. “I was a manipulative asshole, and you know it. We both know it.”

Brian smiled, and now Justin knew how to look. Even in this dim light, he could see that Brian was smiling around his pain.

“Okay. So we both fucked up. Can we move on already?”

Justin leaned back into him, and Brian accepted his weight readily.

“What do I do now?”

Brian sighed, but didn't relinquish his hold. “Why ask me?”

“Who else?”

“Why are you asking me?”

Justin hesitated. “Your opinion is the only one that counts.”

“Bullshit,” Brian said, pulling back and shaking his head. “Look, you can lie to me, even though I don’t much like the credit that's giving my intelligence. Don’t lie to yourself. Do you know why you’re asking me?”

Justin frowned. “Because I want to know what you think.” 

Brian frowned back at him. “Why? Why do you give a shit what I think?”

Justin rubbed his temples. “I’m getting a migraine, Brian. Help me out here. What are you asking me?”

“What you should be asking yourself,” Brian sighed. “Do you want my opinion because you think I have the maturity and wisdom to give the right advice, even though I’m not feeling very friendly toward you right now? Or do you ask because you think if you do what I tell you to do I might take you back, after all?”

“That hurt,” Justin said softly after a moment of shocked silence. “I guess I deserve it. I don’t know why I’m asking you.”

“I didn’t intend to hurt you. That’s why I don't give people a piece of my mind. Those pieces have cutting edges. Ask again when you know why you're asking.”

Justin nodded, “Okay. I will. Thank you, Brian.”

“What for?”

“Your patience.”

Brian shrugged. “Did you bring your meds? Go and take them.”

Justin sighed. “I guess I will.”

“Wait,” Brian put a restraining hand on his arm and pulled him to the sink. “Here, wash your face first. And comb your hair. Why do you let it grow so long? You’re a fright.”

“I know, I know,” Justin grinned. “And I know you don't like my pants, either. I saw the look.”

Brian took a deep breath. “I’m taking the kids shopping tomorrow morning. You’d better tag along.”

Justin dried his face and hands, and ran Brian’s comb through his hair. He turned.

“Brian. I don't have money to shop for new clothes.”

“So what else is new,” Brian said. “I’ll pay.”

“You always do,” Justin said. “And not just in dollars.”

“Which reminds me. I have an apartment you can move into.”

Justin shook his head. “I see why you don’t want me staying with Debbie. But I can’t afford an apartment.”

“I’m not asking you to make the rent,” Brian said calmly. “Move in, get your head together and figure out what you want to do with your life. It’s about time. And don’t fucking worry about money. I won’t let you starve.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Brian shrugged. “Because I can.”

Justin reached out, ran his fingertips up Brian’s arm, felt him tense. “Brian…”

“Don’t,” Brian said. “Don’t say anything. Go take your pills.”

Justin sighed. “Lock up. You forgot earlier.”

Brian followed him to the door and let him out. Justin heard the key turn and suddenly wondered whether Brian had really forgotten to lock the door, or whether he had wanted somebody to join him. If so - whom had he wanted?

 

“So,” Shane’s voice said from the stairs, “Did that hurt or did it help?”

“Me, or him?” Justin shot back.

“Both,” Shane sighed. “Are you okay?”

“Headache,” Justin shrugged.

“Is that a Brian-headache, or a Debbie-headache?”

“Actually, it’s a Brian-induced Justin-headache.”

Shane laughed softly. “I’ve had a few of those myself.”

“That so.”

“Yeah, kiddo, so it is.”

Justin shrugged. “Whatever. I need my meds.”

“Wait. How is Brian?”

Justin thought for a moment. “Can’t really say. Michael pissed him off, and Debbie made it worse. Any idea why she wants Brian's dick?”

“I guess Ted is right. A lot of people want to be Brian.”

“Well, he’s got it all, doesn't he. He’s gorgeous, rich and successful.”

“Is that what you think, or is that what you're telling me?”

“You figure it out.”

Shane got up from the stairs, and Justin was very aware that he was so much taller than he himself was.

“Justin. We didn't get off to a very good start, but can we put that aside? This can’t be about us; it has to be about Brian.”

Justin sighed. “What do you want?”

“I want what's right for Brian.”

“I can agree with that. What do you think is right for Brian?”

Shane seemed to hesitate. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

“An escort service, how endearing.”

“Christ, you got a weapon’s permit for that mouth of yours?”

Justin walked away from him, “It's called repartee.” 

Shane caught up easily, and Justin heard his sigh. “Fuck it, Justin. Don’t you see that too many people joust around here?”

“So one more won’t make a difference,” Justin muttered.

“Brian needs honesty,” Shane offered. “He doesn't cope very well with lies and half-truths.”

“I’m honest with Brian,” Justin said defensively.

“How can you be,” Shane asked, “When you aren’t honest with yourself?”

“And just what makes you think I’m not?”

Shane sighed. “I figure that if you had been, and knew what you wanted, you wouldn't have left Brian. Over and over.”

“Thank you, CNN. It’s still none of your goddamn business.”

“Brian is my business. Has been for years.”

“Right. You keep saying that. Michael says the same thing, and a host of other people constantly pokes their noses in. I’m beginning to wonder whether Brian doesn't know how to tell people fuck off.”

“He knows,” Shane said wearily. “Only, he won't.”

Justin climbed the stairs ahead of him and marched down the corridor. His head was really beginning to hurt now. He dug through his bag, and finally found his meds. Quickly, he shook some tablets into his hand and got up to fetch a glass of water.

Surprising him, Shane held out a glass filled with the sparkling liquid. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Justin said, downing the pills.

“Why did you come back to the Burgh?”

Justin sighed. “Brian. You already knew that, or you wouldn't keep asking.”

“True,” Shane admitted. “And what do you want from him this time?”

Justin sat on the bed. “I thought I knew. But I don't, really. I only know that without Brian, I’m totally miserable.”

Shane dropped into the Chesterfield, and his seize made the chair look like a toy. “You’re miserable with Brian, too.”

“No,” Justin said vehemently, “I’m happy when I’m with him.”

Shane frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. Why leave?”

“Jeez,” Justin dropped his hurting head into his hands, “I’m so confused already, and you’re not helping.”

“You’re confusing everybody, including Brian. You need to figure yourself out. Will you do something for Brian?”

Justin looked up. “You know I will. What?”

“Don’t start with him, unless you’re sure you can live up to his hopes. He couldn’t bear it, not again. Every time you leave, you’re taking a piece of him with you.”

Shane got up and dimmed the light. “Get some rest.”

Exhausted, Justin curled up on the bed and soon fell into a restless sleep.


	8. Eight

Judson knocked on the door, certain already that it would be locked. “Brian?”

Footsteps, then the door opened and Brian pulled him inside, locking the door again immediately.

Brian's relaxed movements as he returned to the window and the sweetish smell that hung in the air both said joint, and Judson suppressed a sigh.

“I know I asked before, but why are you putting yourself through this?”

Brian shrugged. “Don't start, Judson. I told you, it’s the last time.”

“I’m not talking about the Lost Boys and their mother, Brian. I’m talking boy toy.”

Brian whirled, his eyes flashing even in the dark. “You said you were okay with him coming here.”

“I did, and I am. I’m not okay with him hurting you!”

“So the first chance you get, you try to drown him in the fucking pool?”

“We were just horsing around. Nobody got hurt.”

“Right. Only he feels rotten because he swallowed about a gallon of chloride water.”

Judson caught his breath. “Christ, Brian. You’ve got it bad.”

Brian turned back to the window, shaking his head.

Judson thought for a moment. Say what you think? Or keep your mouth shut? Which would hurt Brian more?

“How is he supposed to ever grow up, when you play Über-father to his boyish behavior?”

“Fuck off, Judson.”

“Sorry, no can do. The minute his father kicked him out, you were there for him. You didn’t even wait to see whether he could figure it out for himself.”

“It was my fault he got kicked out. I didn’t want him to sell himself just so he could eat.”

“So you ended up buying him.”

“Yeah,” Brian said icily. “The most expensive toy I ever bought. Cost me my sanity.”

“Cut out the drama queen act,” Judson sighed. “I’m just saying that like any good father, you let him go on his adventures, and like any good father, you're there to catch him when he falls. He was never your back-up plan. You were his. Still are.”

“I told you before. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“You expect me to stand by and watch. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?”

“I told you the truth, Judson. You knew from day one what you were getting into.”

“Yes. I don’t mind sharing, you know that. I don’t mind knowing that there is somebody I can never hope to displace, or even be a substitute for. What I do mind is having to watch the effect he has on you. I’m not sure I can stand it.”

“Judson. I care more than I can express. But I’m not going to lie, or pretend. Without Justin, I’m not complete. I’d rather put up with the pain than be without him. If you can’t cope with that, I’ll have to get by without you.”

Judson nodded, taking a deep breath. He had known this, in the corner of his soul he didn’t dare visit very often. Hearing it hurt more than he had expected.

“I wasn’t trying to blackmail you, or issuing an ultimatum.”

Brian shrugged. “I know.”

“It’s funny. They all want to be you. I’d rather be Justin. To be loved like this…”

“If I had known I’d end up hurting you, I’d have stayed away from you.”

Judson laughed bitterly. “Fool. You don’t even realize I’m in the same situation as you are. I’d rather put up with the pain than be without you.”

He turned on his heel and left the room, almost tempted to slam the door. But he knew he was angry with himself, rather than with Brian. And Brian didn’t need any more shit right now.

 

“Judson? That you?”

“Yes, Shane.”

“How did it go?”

He heard Judson sigh. Heavily. 

“It went really well, Shane.”

“Meaning?”

“If I’m not prepared to put up with it, he’ll jilt me.”

“I warned you,” Jim said calmly. “Don’t compete with Justin.”

“Why are you guys sitting in the dark?”

Jim laughed, it sounded angry. “Because we’d rather not look each other in the eye right now.”

“Why’s that?”

“We said we’d protect him from these idiots, and we’re not doing a good job of it. We wanted to protect him from Justin, and we really fucked up on that one. So, we’re not exactly proud of ourselves.”

Shane sighed. “Be realistic. There wasn't much chance of jumping into the Rage-conversation. Protecting Brian from Justin would mean protecting him from himself, and I for one have never been able to do that.”

“Has Michael?”

“Christ, no. Michael finds the wound and pours a couple of pounds of salt into it.”

“Like mother, like son,” Judson said wearily, managing to find his way to a chair in the dark and settling into it.

“Are you going to put up with it, Judson?”

“As long as I can. What is it about the twinkie?”

“He treats Brian the way his parents did,” Shane said, fighting the feeling of futility. “Love comes with a price tag, and Brian has to find a way to figure out what the tag says, and how to pay. Only, it's never quite right, never quite good enough. So Brian keeps going, hoping that one day, he’ll finally get it right.”

“What do you expect,” Jim said. “That’s also what Justin learned. If you’re a good boy, if you're straight, we’ll love you. Turn queer, we’ll turn you away.”

“His mother didn’t,” Judson murmured.

Jim said, “Jen is one in a million. Justin’s father did, and so did the kids at school.”

“I can see that’s a match made in heaven. They’re good for each other.”

“Love isn’t necessarily about being good for each other,” Jim said wearily. “We all know that. I just wish the twinkie hadn’t come back right now, not with Brian back in chemo next week.”

“Which hospital is he going to this time?”

Jim snorted a laugh. “You don’t think he’d tell me, do you? After you pair turned up at the last one?”

“Why is he so stubborn, for god’s sake? Why does he have to do everything by himself?”

“He’s done everything by himself for twenty years. The system works for him. Don’t expect him to change it, Judson.” 

Shane heard Judson’s soft sigh. “I thought you were there.”

“I’m there. Whenever he wants me. Which, to be honest, is not as often as I’d like.” Shane got to his feet. “We’d better get back to the party.”

“Party? You mean the hunting party, right?”

Jim and Judson also got up, and together the three men made it to the patio.

 

Justin woke up when he heard Jim creep into their room, getting ready for bed quietly. He waited until he was certain the other man had settled in his side of the bed, then asked, “Jim? You're a medical doctor, right?”

He heard Jim sit up. “Yes, I am. What’s wrong, are you ill?”

“I’m fine. It's Brian. I know about doctor-patient privilege and all that. But I know he'll tell me to butt out, I can’t ask him. Please, tell me – does Brian have AIDS?”

“Are you worried? When did you have your last check?”

“I had myself checked before I left New York, I’m okay. And if I had it, it wouldn't be from Brian. We never did it without a condom. He refused, even when I wanted to.” Justin drew a deep breath. “Jim. Please, please believe me when I say I’m not in the least worried about myself here. I fear for Brian.”

Jim sighed audibly. “Justin, you're putting me on the spot, you know that. What makes you think Brian is ill?”

“I overheard Shane and Judson earlier today. They were talking about Brian losing so much weight, and not keeping his food down. And he’s downright skinny. I mean, he's always been thin, but it feels like he’s got a 27 inch waist now.”

“Let me think a minute, Justin,” Jim said. “I’m not sure how to handle this.”

The rustling told Justin that Jim had settled down again.

Justin remained silent, praying fervently that Jim would tell him what was wrong.

After a while, Jim sighed. “Justin. I’m not comfortable with this. At all. I really should keep my mouth shut, you have no right to the information. On the other hand, I know you must be out of your mind with worry. I’ll answer the question, but that's as far as it goes. I’m not telling you anything else, so please don’t beleaguer me. Okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Brian is ill, but it’s not AIDS.”

Justin drew a shuddering breath. “Thank god. Thank god for that. Can I do anything?”

“Now that you know, you can help us. Keep him off the booze as much as possible, away from drugs, and make sure he eats. Even if it’s only bite here or there, it's better than nothing.”

“You got it.”

Jim cleared his throat. “Justin. I realize that Judson and Shane are on your case, so it's probably going to feel like I am, too. If you don’t want to answer, tell me to fuck off, okay?”

Justin snorted a laugh. “Okay. I can do that. What?”

“Brian. What are your plans?”

“To be honest, when I left New York, my plan was to corner Brian at Babylon and tell him I want him back.”

Jim laughed softly. “A simple plan.”

“Very simple,” Justin sighed. “And in retrospect, simplistic.”

“I hate to say it, but I agree. Why do you want Brian back, anyway? Other mothers have pretty sons, too.”

“I’m such an idiot, Jim. When Lindsay kept at me about how Caswell’s stupid article had the art-world of New York waiting for me with baited breath, I told her that my life was Brian, not some uncertain future in York. I don’t know what made me change my mind. I do know that the year away from Brian was a wasted year. I can’t even work properly when he’s not around. Brian is my inspiration.”

“So, you came back for your muse?” Jim sounded amused.

“No. I came back for my life.”

“Justin. It looks as though Brian has moved on.”

Justin sighed again. “I’m aware. I thought I knew Brian, but I’m beginning to realize I don’t know shit.”

“He’s twelve years ahead of you.”

“Yes. And it's only now that I grasp how much I don’t know. Somehow, it never occurred to me to ask about those years.”

“You should have. Brian lives life to the full; ten of his years equal a hundred for an ordinary man.”

Justin closed his eyes for a moment, trying to suppress the tears. “I can never catch up.”

Jim sighed. “This ain’t no race, kiddo. You needn’t catch up. But you need to stay level.”

“To stay level, I first need to catch up.”

“Mh-mm. Maybe you’re right. Is there any way you can get to talk to Brian? Without your history getting in the way?”

“What’s the point? He seems perfectly happy with Judson, why would I want to take that away from him? Especially if all I’ve got to offer is me.”

“That's one big offer, Justin.”

“It’s not. How can Brian not wonder whether I’ll leave him again?”

“You’d have to convince him,” Jim said calmly.

“Right. How do I do that? And there’s still Judson.”

“Forget about Judson for now. What would it take for you to get Brian back?”

“A fucking miracle,” Justin said hotly. “And I can’t just forget about Judson. They’re together, for god’s sake. For them to have a relationship in the first place, Brian has to be crazy about him.”

“I’ve been playing devil’s advocate here, I hope you appreciate that. Look, Justin. Brian does love Judson. Judson is a grown man. He has his own life, and he wants Brian, but he doesn’t need him. If you want to compete with Judson, you’ve got to sort yourself out. Get a life. Make sure you have more to offer than youth, because that grows old quickly, if you’ll forgive the pun. You need to be more than a pretty face and a hot body.”

“You sound like Brian,” Justin said tiredly.

“Really,” Jim said, sounding surprised. “So he knows you need to grow up before you can make any decisions? Wow.”

“Why does that surprise you?”

“Because I wasn’t sure Brian knew where things went wrong for you guys. Considering he doesn't do relationships, he seems to know a lot about them.”

“I guess watching your friends flounder will do that for you,” Justin muttered. “Do you really think that’s the reason for our problems? That I’m not grown up enough for Brian?”

“I’m not criticizing, okay? I’ll tell you what I see. You have to decide for yourself whether I’ve got it right. You meet Brian when you’re seventeen. You’re still at school, Brian has a career. You live with mom and dad, Brian lives in a killer loft. Do you fall for Brian or for the glamor?”

“Both, I guess,” Justin said honestly. “If Brian had lived in Michael’s place, I probably wouldn’t have thought he was quite that hot.”

Jim laughed. “How can a guy be hot when he collects comics?”

“Michael can be really nice,” Justin said. “And even a geek can be hot. But Michael isn’t a geek; he’s just… unfinished, sort of.”

“Yeah. You’re onto something there. When he’s nice, he's nice. But when he’s being an asshole, he’s the worst asshole there is.”

“True,” Justin conceded.

“Okay. Then you get bashed, and somehow, you end up living with Brian. Is he your lover or your defender?”

Justin sighed. “Both. Seen the first issue of Rage?”

Jim laughed. “Yeah, I have. Of course I have. And you know what, I instantly recognized Brian. Not from the writing, but from the way you drew him. All that self-confidence, the attitude, the instinctive arrogance, it was all there.”

“That’s not all Brian is.”

“No. But usually, it’s all he’ll allow people to see. Look at Debbie, he’s still got her fooled.”

“She wants to be fooled. If she thought Brian was wonderful, she’d have to see that Michael isn’t. She couldn’t stand it.”

“I wish Brian could see that as clearly as you do. She’s a surrogate mother, and he can’t get her approval, either.”

“She’s very much like his own mother. They both want him to do what they think is right. They don’t even want to think about what’s right for Brian.”

“What about your mother?”

“My mother. She’s terrific, really. It took her a while to adjust to the idea of me being queer, and a bit longer to take to Brian. Right now, I think she loves Brian more than she loves me.”

“Ouch,” Jim laughed. “Doesn't that bother you?”

Justin thought for a moment. “Actually, it doesn’t. I want people to love Brian. And I haven’t exactly been a good son.”

“Just because you didn’t go to the wedding?”

“How do you know I didn't go?”

“Brian. You have no idea how much you pissed him off.”

“I had no idea he cared about my mother.”

“Huh. I know something you don’t,” Jim said, a smile in his voice.

“You going to tell me?”

“No,” Jim seemed to grin, “Ask your mom.”

“Okay, I might. Can we get back to the original topic?”

“Sure. You sure?”

“I’m sure. Go ahead.”

“Okay. Vermont.”

“Not one of my finest moments,” Justin murmured. “What about Vermont?”

“Did you even know how much that bothered Brian? Not that you went on your own, he was okay with that. But that you didn't support him. His job was on the line when Gardner took over Ryders. And with his job, the loft, his lifestyle and you.”

“Me? Why me?”

Jim snorted. “Because you got accustomed to Brian’s lifestyle. Classy car, expensive furniture, take-outs almost every day, out clubbing every night, costly clothes. I think he was worried you might not hang around for a pauper.”

“I clearly gave him ample reason to doubt my motives,” Justin said bitterly.

“You did. You wanted romance, but did you give him any? Did you ever bring Brian flowers?”

“He would have laughed at me.”

“Yes. But he would have loved it, and he would have made sure you knew it.”

Jambalaya. 

Justin remembered the first time he had cooked a meal for Brian. Sure, he had scoffed at it. But he had eaten it with that crooked little smile, and complimented him on it. And afterwards, Brian had taken him to bed and made love to him. That hadn’t been just sex. It had been love-making, with a complete and utter focus on his reactions, and absolute attention to his needs. Justin still got a thrill out of the memory of that night.

“Worst of all, you weren’t there to celebrate when he made partner. Most ad-men can’t hope to make partner, and they certainly don't do it at that age.”

“I didn't appreciate the achievement then. It meant nothing to me.”

“But it meant the world to him. He wanted to make you proud, and you didn't give a shit.”

Justin sighed. “Why the hell does he even still care?”

“Beats me.”

“Thanks.”

“Justin. I have no hope in hell of ever understanding Brian. The Kinney operating manual is written in a language I don't speak. But I’m fairly good at seeing where people go wrong.”

“Are you a shrink?”

“No. I grew up in a dysfunctional household. My mother was married four times, and each time I knew hubby was going to leave before she even figured something wasn't right.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Sorry is bullshit, to quote a certain somebody. Why did you run away with Ethan? Why pick that particular moment, when Brian wanted to celebrate your success?”

“He was fucking some guy in the back-room.”

“You had been fucking Ethan, more than once. You had an agreement. That can’t have been it.”

“You know about the stupid agreement?”

“Yes,” Jim laughed. “We couldn’t believe Brian actually went for that. Brian thought it was hilarious that you were applying the thumb-screws. He called you a cocky cat.”

“I think I left because I was so disappointed. He refused to celebrate my birthday, wanted to do his own thing all the time…”

“He had a tough time of it at work.”

“I never knew.”

“Of course not. You’ve never worked.”

“I did work. I worked at the Diner.”

“It doesn't compare, Justin. Look, you wanted me to be honest. I don't get the thing about your birthday, because I know you didn’t celebrate your eighteenth. So why was the nineteenth so important all of a sudden? Is it possible a certain lesbian couple put lesbionic ideas in your head?”

Justin thought for a while. “You could be right. They were going on about it. They were the ones who took me to the stupid violin concert.”

“They wanted to give you the romance they didn't have anymore. What with Gus, and financial struggles, I guess candle-light dinners and classical music on the stereo were few and far between. And Melanie probably thought that if you took all of Brian's time, he’d not turn up at their house so often.”

“I always thought they were my friends. And Brian’s friends.”

“Beware. All of Brian's friends have their own hidden agenda when dealing with him.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. I want him to think positively. I want him to have things to look forward to. I want him to have a reason to…” Jim stopped and took a deep breath. “Fuck.”

“To fight. Battle his illness.”

A whisper in the dark, so faint that Justin almost didn't hear it.

“Yes. Please god, yes.”

Justin swallowed. “That bad?”

“Justin. I can’t talk about it.”

“Okay. I understand.”

Jim cleared his throat. “So. Ethan. What did he have that Brian didn’t?”

“Nothing, really. Lots of empty promises. And I was a fool and fell for them.”

“Because Brian never made you any promises.”

“He made few promises. But those that he made, he kept.”

“Why did you leave him like that? Without a word? Do you have any idea what that must feel like? Of course you don't. Nobody ever left you.”

“I wasn’t thinking about him. I was thinking only about me.”

“Well, at least you’re honest about that. What made you decide you wanted Brian back?”

“Even when I was with Ethan, Brian was always on my mind. I was comparing our fucking to having sex with Brian. I listened to Ethan’s opinions and wondered what Brian would think. Every time I got restless, Ethan would come up with something that kept me hanging on. When I found out Ethan cheated on me - that was the final straw. In my head, I had already left, but I didn’t have sufficient reason to actually go.”

“You got him back. You said you knew what he wanted from you, and what you could expect from him. Did you?”

“No. Looking back, I know that's what I believed. But really, I said what I thought Brian wanted to hear.”

“Do you know how blissfully happy he was to have you back? He knew you guys were the talk of Liberty Avenue for days, and he didn’t even give a fuck about what Michael and his goons would think.”

Justin sighed. “I know they weren’t exactly happy for him.”

“They’re never happy for Brian. Michael would prefer it if Brian played lone wolf for the rest of his life. Because then Michael could continue to dream about landing him for himself.”

“Any idea why Brian doesn't just fuck him and get it over with?”

“You don't fuck your kid brother, Justin,” Jim scoffed.

“Ugh,” Justin muttered. “Thanks for that one.”

Jim laughed. “Anytime.”

“Are we done?” Justin suppressed a yawn.

“No,” Jim said. “Half time. Why, you tired?”

“I’m tired alright. But I’d rather get this over with.”

Jim snorted. “Right. So. Hollywood. Why did you keep Brian hanging on?”

“I was homesick. I enjoyed L.A., it was great. Super weather, sexy guys, and work I loved doing. But I still missed Brian.”

“Okay. So you come back, you move in with him – then what? The Stepford wives fill your head with nonsense?”

“You make it sound like my head was empty half the time, and people came by and filled it with whatever they wanted.”

“That’s exactly what it looks like from where I’m standing.”

“I just didn’t see why gay guys can’t have everything heteros have.”

“They can. But why would they want it? They’re not heteros.”

“That’s why Brian keeps calling them Ersatz-heteros, right?”

“Brian knew he was gay at a very early age. He’s a very straightforward guy, if you forgive the pun. To Brian, being gay means to do things your way, not the way all the heteros do it. Admit you like cock, and get cock.”

“He once told me straight people tell themselves they’re in love just so they can get laid.”

“That’s often true. Being gay means you don't have to lie about what you want. Sex means a maximum of pleasure and a minimum of bullshit.”

“So why bother with me?”

“Ah, now you're cutting to the chase. You were more than a quick fuck. You intrigued him. You were the first person who questioned his rules, and, more importantly, you made him question them.”

“He told me he wouldn't give me what I wanted. Not that he couldn't.”

“Of course he wouldn't. He didn’t want to be an Ersatz-hetero, perish the thought.”

“But after the bomb, all of a sudden, he wanted to marry me.”

Jim sighed. “You wanted to marry him. He would have gone along with it because he figured it was the only way to keep you.”

“But he changed. Everything changed.”

“According to your wishes, your majesty. He told me that he’d give you whatever you wanted; he’d do whatever you wanted to make you happy. You had the man at your beck and call, and you threw it all away.”

“Yeah,” Justin said bitterly. “I guess my head was empty once again, so Lindsay filled it with Caswell and a career in arts in New York.”

“She told you what she wanted herself. You didn't take charge of your life, so other people got tempted to do it for you. Lindsay figured she could have her little hetero-lesbian life in Toronto, and live the bohemian life through you. She has neither enough guts nor enough talent to do it for herself.”

“That’s pretty harsh.”

“It's the truth, the way I see it.”

“Why the hell didn't Brian ever stop me?”

Jim laughed. “What? You wanted him to stop you?”

“He could have told me that I made the biggest mistake of my life when I went with Ethan. He could have told me that getting Rage made into a film was a load of bullshit. He should have told me that I didn’t really want to end up like Michael and Ben. He should have made me stay, instead of encouraging me to go to New York.”

“Ah, now we’re back to Brian the father-figure. Look, Justin. He’ll catch you when you fall, always. That's what Brian is like. But he won't stop you from leaving. Don't you realize that the whole time, he was encouraging you to build a life for yourself? To find something that you can love as much as Brian loves advertising?”

“We wanted to get married,” Justin said stubbornly. “He had a right to stop me.”

“He had already begged you to marry him. There was no way he was going to beg you to stay.”

“Yes, but still…”

“Justin. When will you learn? Brian wants you to be happy. Whatever it takes, he wants you to have it. If you think you have to leave to be happy, he’ll let you go. That’s all there is to it. Brian is one of the very few men I know who isn’t selfish in the least.”

“Fuck,” Justin muttered and crawled out of bed to rifle through his bag.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for my meds,” Justin replied. “I’ve got the grandfather of a headache.”

“Don't be silly, put on the light.”

“No, thanks,” Justin closed his fingers around the well-known plastic bottle. “I’ve got it.”

“Make sure they’re the right ones,” Jim said with concern in his voice.

Justin shrugged, then realized that Jim probably couldn't see that. “It’s alright, my allergy meds are in the bathroom. I only keep the migraine tablets with me in the room.”

“Got water? You should never take pills dry.”

“I know, I know.” Justin found the water bottle he had brought up with him and uncapped it. He swallowed two pills, and then asked, “What do you think I should do?”

“I expect Brian already has an idea about where you can stay. He seemed rather annoyed that you opted to stay with Debbie, you know.”

“Well, I didn't think that staying with the newly-weds was a good idea.”

Jim laughed. “Anyway. Life doesn't offer endless chances. Don’t waste this one. Take Brian up on his offer. Knowing him, he’ll make sure you don't have to worry about finances. Take some time and really think about what you want to do for the rest of your life. Whether it's painting, or being a chef, or a hairdresser. Make sure it’s right for you. Don't worry about what other people might think, or what they might want for you.”

“You make it sound easy,” Justin commented.

“It is easy. I always knew I wanted to be a doctor. Brian always knew he wanted to make people want things they don’t need. My sister always knew she wanted to paint.”

“Your sister is an artist?”

“Yes. She was in a car crash a few years ago, and it took her a while to get back into it. But now she’s more determined than ever.”

“Is she in a wheelchair? Is her name Adrienne?”

“Adrienne Bennett. Yes. You know her?”

“I do. I actually own one of her paintings, she gave it to me.”

“She has an exhibition at the Bloom Gallery next month. I’m sure she’d like to see you again.”

“I’ll go,” Justin said. “I’d like to see her again, too.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. After all this?”

“How come you didn’t simply say, I don't have to think, I know I want to paint.”

“It's not that simple. I love painting, but I love drawing more. When I look at my experiences in New York, I know I’m not the next Picasso, or Constable. I’ve always been interested in animation. I’d like to try my hand at that, but I don’t even know where to start.”

Jim yawned. “Ask Brian. He probably knows how to find out where to start. He’s giving you a chance to figure it out. Don’t blow it. And while you're at it, figure yourself out. Try to figure out a few things about Brian.”

“That’s a lot of figuring,” Justin yawned as well. “I think it’ll have to wait till morning. I’m bushed.”

“Me, too,” Jim said. “And Justin? I’ll give you my address and phone number. You can come to me anytime. I’ll help as much as I can.”

“Thanks, Jim. You have helped. I see a lot more clearly now. And I’ll probably take you up on your offer. Good night!”

“Good night, Justin. Sleep well.”

 

Justin woke early, and glanced at Jim, who was sleeping peacefully. Nice guy, Justin thought. As quietly as possible, he got out clean clothes and crept into the bathroom for a quick shave and shower.

Brian had said he wanted to go shopping, but he hadn’t given him a time. Justin decided to go down and see whether anybody was up already. He looked at his watch. Unlikely, it was only quarter past six. He grabbed his bag anyway.

Approaching the pool, Justin stopped and took in the sight. Brian was in the pool, exercising. Hadn't Shane said that Brian had been on the swim team? He had good style. In school, Justin had spent enough hours at the pool with Daphne to see that.

He pulled up a deck-chair and settled in it. Brian hadn’t noticed he was there; he was completely absorbed in his task. Justin wondered how many laps Brian was going for. Twenty? Thirty?

Somehow, Brian’s swift strokes and even rhythm were soothing, and Justin slipped into a trance of well-being, dreamily watching Brian and not thinking about a thing.

Surprising him, Brian finally came to the side and swung himself up out of the pool, shaking the water out of his hair.

He hadn’t bothered with swim trunks, and Justin rather cherished the view. 

Brian raised an eyebrow at him. “When you’re through looking, would you hand me my towel? You’re sitting on it.”

Justin grinned unrepentantly. “You can’t blame me. It's an artist's appreciation of beauty.”

“Right,” Brian scoffed. “Towel?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Justin pulled the towel out from under him and handed it over. “Want me to go put on the coffee?”

“That’d be great, thanks.”

Justin nodded and walked off into the kitchen. He went to work quickly, getting coffee and some muffins ready. 

Brian strode into the kitchen a few minutes later, wearing jeans and a white shirt. Justin could smell Kirk’s Castile on him, the eucalyptus soap that Brian always used in the shower.

Justin smiled and put coffee and a muffin in front of him. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” Brian said. “I wish I could say likewise, but you need a haircut.”

“That bad?” Justin laughed.

“Worse,” Brian grinned. “Don’t they have hairdressers in New York?”

“I suppose they must do,” Justin shrugged. “I couldn't be bothered.”

Brian frowned. “I know you got good reviews from people other than Caswell. What went wrong?”

Justin met his gaze levelly. “I was homesick.”

“You could have come for a visit anytime,” Brian said.

Justin shrugged again. “I don’t like being a visitor.”

“You’re full of twists and turns, Justin.”

“I’m aware. I’ll try and straighten myself out.”

Brian nodded and lifted his cup. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Try the muffin, I think I got them the way you like them.”

Brian gave him an odd look, as though trying to read his mind. Much to Justin's delight, he shrugged and bit into his muffin. “Mh-mm, you did. Nice.”

“Good, have another one.” Justin put another blueberry muffin on Brian’s plate.

“Me, too,” JR demanded.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Justin grinned. “Come here, you can have some milk to go with it.”

“Oh, yes!” JR beamed at him.

“Good morning, Daddy,” Gus said. “I’m dressed.”

“I see that,” Brian grinned. “But are you washed?”

“Sure,” Gus said. “I had a shower last night, and now I washed and brushed my teeth. You said we were going shopping!”

“Right,” Brian said. “As soon as you’ve had a glass of milk and a muffin. We’ll have a proper breakfast in town.”

“Great,” Gus said. “I brought clothes for JR, but you have to wash her. And comb her hair, I can’t do that.”

“Okay,” Brian said, “Let her finish her food first.”

“One more,” JR demanded. “Hungry!”

Justin grinned and gave her another muffin. “How about you, Brian?”

“No thanks, two is my limit,” Brian said.

“Two what,” Judson said, strolling into the kitchen. “Blowjobs?”

“Muffins,” Brian grinned. “I don’t set limits on sex.”

“Any left for me,” Judson asked.

“Sure,” Justin said. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” Judson kissed Brian and swung himself up on a barstool, yawning. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Half past seven,” Brian replied. “Come on, JR, let’s get you cleaned up. Go brush your teeth again Gus; I’ll comb your hair after.”

As soon as they were gone, Judson asked, “Did Brian really eat two muffins?”

“Yes,” Justin said evenly, feeling smug and trying hard to hide it.

Judson studied him for a long moment. Justin held his gaze, again struck by the beauty of the man. He could imagine that face on the sculpture of some ancient god, Apollo maybe, or Osiris.

“Keep up the good work,” Judson said. “You going into town with him?”

Justin nodded. “He asked.”

“Keep an eye on him?”

“What am I looking for?”

Judson shrugged. “Damned if I know. Just don’t let him overdo. Make sure he gets plenty to drink.”

“Why aren’t you coming?”

“Because three’s a crowd,” Judson grinned. “He wants you to himself for a bit.”

“Doesn't that bother you?”

“Only if you hurt him. If you’re good for him, I’ll cheer you on.”

Justin sighed. “I’ll try not to repeat my mistakes.”

“That's all I ask.”

“Justin? We’re ready if you are,” Brian called from the living room.

“Later, Judson,” Justin grabbed his bag and went to join Brian and the kids.

 

Brian had put on a blue suede jacket, Gus was wearing washed-out jeans and a T-shirt, and JR was wearing a somewhat faded green dress that looked too short for the little girl.

Apparently Brian had understood his look, because he said, “You see why we need to go shopping.”

Justin nodded, and they went out to the cars. 

“Let’s take the Jeep,” Brian said. “You want to drive?”

“I’d love to,” Justin said eagerly, and Brian grinned and tossed him the keys.

“Where are we going?”

“Food,” the kids said in unison.

Brian shrugged. “You heard them. There’s a new place on Penn, open around the clock.”

“Okay,” Justin nodded. “Do they have their own parking?”

“Actually, they do.”

They drove in silence for a while, then the kids started chatting softly in the back-seat. Justin glanced over at Brian. “Music?”

“Sure. What would you like?”

“Anything,” Justin shrugged. “I’m not particular.”

“You’re not?” Brian scoffed, rifling through the CDs in the glove compartment. “Since when?”

Justin smiled. “Okay, so I am. What have you got?”

“Let’s see. Miles Davis. That’s not for you. How about this?”

Brian slipped a disc into the player, and Gloria Gaynor’s voice filled the car with ‘never can say good-bye’.

Justin grinned. “Not bad.”

Brian sat back in his seat.

“Brian. Did you really do the animation on that cat yourself?”

“Sure,” Brian shrugged. “No big deal.”

“Would you mind showing me how it’s done?”

Brian looked over at him. “Since when are you interested in computer graphics?”

“I’ve always been interested in animation,” Justin said, “But unfortunately I don't know much about it.”

“You’ve done digital manipulation, right?”

“Some. Just before everything went haywire.”

Brian nodded. “We’ll see how much you remember.”

“How come you know so much about computer graphics?”

“I took classes in college,” Brian explained. “I wanted to be able to do everything that can be used in advertising, from photography to photo manipulation, from drawing to graphics to animation. I used to go back, but these days, people are wasting their time. And mine. You sit there for two hours, and you get about twenty minutes of information, the rest is jabbering. The last couple of times, I hired a private tutor.”

“A maximum of tuition, a minimum of bullshit?”

“Funny, Justin,” Brian scoffed, but he grinned at him. “Turn left.”

Justin complied. “What am I looking for?”

“Over there,” Brian pointed. “Rainbow Provisions.”

“There seem to be a lot of rainbows in the Burgh of late.”

Brian shrugged. “Gay kid on the block. Owns a few eateries.”

Justin parked the car, and Gus said, “Is this where I had the Knight’s Lunch last time?”

“Yes,” Brian said, “And today you can try the Knight’s Breakfast, if you like.”

“Great,” Gus beamed, “I’m hungry.”

“And me,” JR said. “So hungry! What do I eat?”

“They’ve got a breakfast for a princess, how about we order that for you?”

JR beamed at Brian as he lifted her out of the car. “Love you!” She spread her arms wide, “Soooo much!”

Brian hugged her, smiling. “Love you too, honey.”

“These guys are always hungry,” Justin commented, locking the car. He wanted to give Brian the keys, but Brian waved them away.

“You can play chauffeur for the day, if you like,” Brian said.

Justin grinned and pocketed the keys, then wondered why Brian would let him drive. When had Brian ever let somebody else handle his wheels? When he was too high or too drunk to drive, which he wasn’t today. Then what? 

Judson had said to keep an eye on Brian, and Justin resolved to do just that.


	9. Nine

The restaurant was trendy, airy and bright. The rainbow colors were subdued, large tropical plants separated the tables and soft music played in the background.

“Nice place,” Justin said.

“I rather like it,” Brian said, “and Gus loves it, don’t you, sonny-boy?”

Gus nodded happily. “I do. I’m a knight here, you know!”

Justin smiled. “You make a fine knight, Gus.”

A waitress brought menus and glasses of water for the adults, orange juice for the kids. Justin was impressed, even more so when he saw that the menus she had given the children had pictures in them.

“This one,” JR said decisively, pointing at a plate filled with a selection of fruit, muffins, bagels, butter and honey.

Brian laughed. “That’s for ravenous bears. Are you a hungry bear?”

JR nodded. “Hungry!”

“Fine with me. Remember you don’t have to eat it all, if you don’t want to,” Brian said. “What about you, Gus?”

“Knight’s Breakfast,” Gus said.

“And you, Justin?”

“Feel like having the English breakfast for two?”

Justin held his breath as Brian seemed to hesitate, and released it when Brian shrugged. “Sure, as long as I don’t have to drink tea with it.”

“Not to worry, it says you can have it with coffee.”

“Do you mind ordering? I need to go to the bathroom,” Brian got up and vanished.

Justin was a bit surprised that he hadn’t asked the kids whether they needed to go.

“Are we getting new shoes,” JR asked Gus.

Gus nodded eagerly. “Daddy said we get everything new, underwear and socks, and jeans and shoes and T-shirts, and you get new dresses, too. And something to wear to the party on Tuesday!”

JR beamed. “That’s good. Then I can walk!”

Justin grinned. “Can’t you walk now?”

“In sandals,” JR said sadly, “but not in shoes. They hurt!”

“They’re too small for her,” Gus explained.

Just then, the waitress turned up and Justin placed their order. Moments later, Brian was back.

Justin looked at him closely, wondering at the tightness around his eyes. Headache?

“What’s the look for,” Brian asked, “Are you still trying to figure out whether I’ve had work done?”

Justin grinned. “If you didn’t look so hot, people wouldn’t have to wonder. Besides, I know you didn’t.”

“And you know that how?”

Justin shrugged. “That report about the side-effects of Botox freaked you out.”

“There’s always the good old facelift.”

“Right,” Justin laughed. “I can see you trusting some doctor with your face.”

Brian grinned. “True. I might end up looking like Ted. Imagine!”

“I’d rather not, thanks,” Justin grinned. “Is Michael getting a pouch?”

“The good life,” Brian said. “He’s runs the shop, and then he goes home to run the household. And that’s all the running he does! Ben exercises like a fiend, and Mikey sits on his ass, eating burritos, wondering where the excess baggage comes from.”

“Maybe he figures he doesn't need to look good, now that he’s secure.”

“Is he secure? And anyway, what does the one have to do with the other? You exercise for your health, and to feel good.”

“And to look good,” Justin grinned.

Brian shrugged. “There’s that.”

The waitress brought their drinks, and then came back with their food. “Here’s the Hungry Bear for the little princess,” she smiled. “And the Knight’s Breakfast for the young man. The English breakfast for the grown-ups. Enjoy!”

Pretending to be busy with his own food, Justin quickly counted what Brian had put on his plate. One slice of toast, four slices of tomatoes, six mushrooms, a spoonful of baked beans, one fried egg and a slice of bacon. Not exactly much for a grown man. Now to hope that at least he’d eat all that.

The kids were happily digging in, and Justin wondered where JR had learned to like her bagels with butter and honey.

Justin was rather pleased with himself when Brian actually ate all the tomatoes and mushrooms, and most of the beans. He only nibbled at the bacon, though, and left half of the egg. He had the toast, but he only put a small amount of butter on it. Still, it was more than he had eaten the day before, and Justin congratulated himself on a job well done.

The kids finished their food and downed their drinks, then looked up at Brian expectantly. “Are you ready? Can we go shopping now?”

“Let Justin finish his coffee, guys. Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

Both kids nodded, and Brian rose. “Come on then.”

The waitress came back to collect their plates. “Wow, those kids can eat! They certainly eat more than Mr. Kinney does!”

Justin grinned. “That’s not exactly difficult, considering he eats like a bird.”

The girl grinned back. “True. And did you know, when he comes here with Mr. Scout, he eats even less than he did today.”

Justin sobered. “It might be a good idea not to let on that you’re watching him.”

She shrugged. “We all know he’s particular. Not to worry.”

Brian returned with the kids, and paid the waitress. From her wide smile, Justin guessed that Brian had also tipped her generously.

 

They got in the car again, and Brian said, “Remember where Pierre’s is?”

Justin grinned. “Sure do. Your tailor. Peter. The Englishman who wanted to be French.”

“He bought the building and opened his own shop. Kid’s wear and men’s fashions.”

“What about women?”

“Nothing doing. He won’t go near them.”

Justin shook his head. “Odd, isn’t he?”

Brian shrugged. “He does what he wants; I can’t fault him for that.”

“Well, imagine having to deal with Debbie. Or Melanie,” Justin grinned. “He might have a point, actually.”

JR started to bounce in her seat, singing to herself, “I’m getting new shoes to walk in, I’m getting new shoes to walk in…”

Justin was glad that the drive over to Pierre’s was short. That screechy little voice was just what he needed to give him yet another piercing headache. Brian’s pained expression seemed to indicate he felt the same way, which inexplicably made Justin feel better.

“Here we are guys. Ready to raid the store, JR?”

JR bounced up and down once more. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Gus smiled. “She’s so excited, Daddy. She was afraid you’d only take me shopping!”

Brian shook his head. “When have I ever done that, JR? When Gus gets new stuff, so do you, don’t you know that?”

“Mom Mel says you don’t like JR,” Gus confided in a whisper that Justin could hear on the other side of the car.

“I do like you, JR. Lots,” Brian said.

Mom Mel is a cow, Justin thought. It was easy to see that Brian was crazy about both kids. There was no difference in the way he treated them.

“Here, Justin,” Brian held out his American Express card. “Go knock yourself out.”

Justin hesitated. This wasn’t right. He shook his head. “I’d rather you come with me.”

“Why,” Brian said. “You know what you need. You can be done by the time I’ve dealt with the kids.”

“I don’t want to use your credit card without you,” Justin clarified.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Why not? You used to.”

Yeah. He had even stolen it once. Still… 

“It’s different now. Please, Brian?”

“Whatever,” Brian sighed. “Let’s get the kids out of the way first, then.”

 

They walked into the shop, and a young man came up to them immediately. “Good morning, Mr. Kinney. Pierre said you’d drop in today. I’m Gordon. Kid’s section is this way, please.”

They followed Gordon to a brightly decorated area filled with all sorts of fairy-tale creatures.

“Let’s start with the little lady, shall we,” Gordon suggested. “The young man can explore that area over there, if he likes.” 

Justin grinned. He would have loved to shop in this kind of place as a kid.

Gus looked at the go-cart track longingly. “May I, Daddy?”

“He’ll be quite safe,” Gordon assured. “We have a girl out front watching the door.”

Brian shrugged. “Gus doesn’t run off, do you son?”

“Of course not, Daddy!”

“Off you go, then. Have fun. I’ll come and get you when we’re ready for you.”

“Okay,” Gus skipped off.

Brian went down on one knee and looked at JR. “So, honey. What do you want to shop for first?”

“Shoes,” JR said, sticking out a foot.

Brian grinned. “Shoes it is, Gordon.”

Gordon led them to the appropriate section and helped JR take off her shoes. He measured her feet and shook his head. “Doesn't that hurt? You should’ve told your dad that your shoes are too small,” he said.

JR looked up at Brian, her eyes filling with tears.

Brian’s frown vanished at once, and he gently smoothed her hair. “That’s alright, JR. Now we’ll get you shoes that fit, okay?”

JR smiled and nodded eagerly. She tried on several pairs, and Justin was surprised how much fun it was to shop with kids. JR seemed to like everything, and was quite happy with Brian’s suggestions.

Brian ended up buying her six pairs of shoes, and three pairs of sandals. T-shirts, shorts and jeans were next, and Gordon sighed. “You need to eat more, honey. You’re awfully thin.”

Justin was about to comment, but Brian's expression stopped him. Brian seemed furious, but when JR looked at him, the expression was gone instantly. “We’ll go for an ice-cream after, shall we?”

JR nodded happily. “Love ice-cream!”

“I know,” Brian said, and held out a pink dress with bows and ribbons. “Now, how do you like this dress?”

JR beamed. “Mine,” she announced.

“First, you have to try it on,” Brian smiled. “Let’s see whether I picked the right size.”

The dress was too small, and Brian shook his head. “Maybe you’re not that thin, after all?”

Gordon opened his mouth, but Brian shot him one of those killer-looks that always shut people up. Justin grinned to himself. He was pretty certain that Brian had picked the tiny dress on purpose.

Gordon came back with several dresses in JR’s size, and when she couldn’t decide which one she liked best, Brian bought them all.

“Up!” JR demanded, holding out her arms to Brian. 

Brian bent and picked her up. “Now what?”

JR put her arms around his neck and squeezed, pressing a very damp kiss to Brian’s cheek. “Love you. Love you!”

Brian grinned. “And I love you, JR. You're my favorite little girl in the whole wide world!”

JR leaned back and looked into Brian’s eyes, her little face serious. “Really? You promise?”

“I promise,” Brian said without hesitation.

“Down,” JR said. As soon as her feet touched the floor she dashed over to the go-cart tracks. “Gus! Gus!”

Gus scrambled off the cart and ran to her. “What’s wrong, are you hurt?”

JR shook her head, and jumped up and down. “I’m dada’s favorite girl!”

“You’re silly,” Gus laughed. “I already knew that.”

He took her hand and led her back to the adults. “Is she done, Daddy?”

Brian shook his head. “We still need a party-dress.”

JR looked at him, eyes wide with surprised delight. “Another dress?”

“Sure,” Brian said. “You’re our princess, and you want to look like a princess for the party, right?”

“Right,” JR smiled. “Wanna be pretty!”

Gordon brought several candy-colored dresses with even more bows and ribbons.

“They’re hideous,” Justin whispered.

“I know,” Brian whispered back. “But not if you’re three and a girl.”

JR immediately decided on a dark-green dress.

“Elle regarde comme si elle s’était baignée dans les épinards,” Brian said.

“What’s that last word,” Justin asked.

“Spinach,” Brian replied.

Justin laughed. Yes, unfortunately Brian was right. JR did look as though she had taken a bath in spinach.

Gordon shot them a quick look. “Maybe you’ll like the dress even better in yellow, JR?”

JR tilted her head. “Maybe. Can I see?”

Gordon helped her into the dress, and JR stood in front of the mirror. “Which one, Dada?”

“I like them both,” Brian said diplomatically.

JR frowned. “Justin?”

“The yellow one,” Justin said. “It brings out your pretty eyes.”

“Yellow, then,” JR decided.

Brian put his arm around his shoulders and squeezed gently. “Merci, Justin.”

Astonished, and certain that it showed, Justin slipped an arm around Brian’s waist and hugged back. “Anytime.”

Their eyes met for a split second, and there was something familiar in that look, something that Justin knew he should be able to place. But the moment was gone before it could register properly, and just then Gus joined them. 

“Is JR ready yet, Daddy?”

“Getting impatient, are we,” Brian grinned. “Yes. It's your turn to go play, JR.”

“Where?” JR wanted to know.

Brian went down on one knee again, and pointed. “Over there. See that big teddy-bear? I think they might have some dolls over there that you can borrow.”

JR nodded and scampered off.

“So, Gus. What’s first?”

“Trousers,” Gus decided.

Shopping for Gus was even easier than shopping for JR; he relied entirely on Brian’s taste and bought ‘what daddy likes’.

T-shirts were a little more complicated, because Gus had his own ideas about the pictures on them. They settled on several with cars and planes, and then Gordon brought some with Disney motifs. 

“I’m too old for Donald Duck,” Gus announced firmly.

“But you’re too young for dildos,” Brian muttered so that only Justin could hear. Justin grinned.

“I want Rage,” Gus decided. “Batman is stupid.”

“Rage,” Gordon repeated, looking scandalized. “How do you know Rage?”

Gus shrugged. “He looks just like my daddy. Michael has a big poster of him in his comic-shop. He told me Rage is a gay super-hero who fights prejudiced people. I like Rage.”

“Well,” Gordon said. “We have an assortment of pictures we can transfer to T-shirts, but I doubt that Rage is among those. Let me go check.”

“Now, how does a nice guy like Gordon know Rage,” Brian asked.

“Poor Gordon,” Justin smiled. “I have a feeling we’re giving him a headache. What do we have to do to make it worse?”

“Twat,” Brian said, but he was grinning.

Gordon returned. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid we haven't got Rage. We do have Superman, though, and the Fantastic Four.”

Gus looked at Brian. “But I want Rage.”

Brian sighed. “Gordon. Those pictures are iron-ons, yes? Basically, you can transfer from any picture, right?”

Gordon nodded.

“Justin. Got your sketch-book?”

“Yes, but the picture will only be black-and-white. Is that okay, Gus?”

Gus nodded happily. “Sure. As long as it’s Rage!”

“And what do you want Rage to do,” Justin asked.

Gus shot Brian a quick look and then gestured for Justin to bend down to him. He whispered eagerly, and Justin laughed. “I can do that. But I want it known that it’s your idea!”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Don’t get yourself into trouble, Sunshine!”

“Gus is getting me into trouble here,” Justin laughed again. “Go and get shoes, it’ll take me a while.”

He returned to the car and went into his kitbag for pencils and the sketch-book. Grinning, he set to work on the motif Gus wanted. He actually rather liked the idea, but he had a feeling Brian might not approve. 

It didn't take him long, as soon as he started to sketch, composition and textures came back, as if he had drawn Rage only yesterday. Then again, if Shane was right, he had.

Satisfied with the result, Justin put his utensils back and went back.

“I just finished buying shoes,” Gus declared. “Are you done? Can I see it?”

Gordon craned his neck, and Brian leaned in for a look. Justin quickly held the sketch behind his back. “My client gets the first look.”

Gus grinned and stood behind him. “You have to turn it around. It’s on its head,” he said.

Justin complied.

The boy was silent for a long moment, and both Brian and Gordon looked at his face with very indulgent smiles. Justin half-turned and glanced over his shoulder.

Gus was gazing at the picture with pure bliss. Finally, Gus looked up and met his eyes, smiling brightly. “That’s just right, you know. Just the way I wanted it. But it’s too nice for a T-shirt. Can I frame it?”

Justin grinned, glad he had understood the kid’s wishes correctly. “You can do both. They don’t damage the picture when they transfer it, you know.”

Gus beamed. “That’s so cool! Can I put it in the living room, Daddy?”

Brian inclined his head. “Can I look at it first?”

“No,” Gus said. “Please?”

Brian looked at Justin, searching his face. “Yes or no?”

“I’m not sure,” Justin said.

“Thank you so very much. That’s helpful.”

Justin thought, mindful of Gordon’s nosy presence. “It might take some explaining.”

“Do I have an explanation?”

“You're putting me on the spot,” Justin protested.

Brian looked at Gus. “How about we hang it in your room?”

Gus frowned. “No. But we can put it in the studio.”

“That’s settled, then,” Brian said. “Now, can I see it?”

Smiling, Justin handed over the sketch. He knew it was good.

Brian looked at the picture, his face unreadable. 

After a long moment, he handed it over to Gordon. “Get a T-shirt printed with this. Be careful, you heard my boy wants it framed.”

“Certainly, sir,” Gordon nodded and vanished.

“Do you like it,” Gus asked.

“It's an excellent drawing,” Brian replied.

Gus frowned, and stood in front of Brian with his hands on his hips. “I know what that means, Daddy. You say things like that at the office, when you like the work, but not what’s in it.”

Brian sighed. “It’s your T-shirt.”

“And now you don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Gus stamped his foot.

“That’s right, Gus. So, please drop it?”

Gus pouted. “We can still put it in the studio, right?”

“I said you could,” Brian said.

Justin frowned. “Brian.”

Brian gave him what Justin thought of as ‘that look’. “I said, drop it.”

Justin sighed. Damn. Had it always been this easy to put a foot wrong? How often had he gone wrong, without ever even noticing?

While Gordon was gone, Brian picked up a selection of socks and underwear for both kids and added it to the already large pile sitting on a counter.

Gus tugged at his trousers. “Are you mad at Justin?”

Brian glanced down at the kid. “What makes you think I am?”

Ouch. That probably meant that Brian was actually mad at him. What now? He could hardly offer to rip up the sketch; and anyway, that would probably make it worse. Fuck.

“I wanted a picture like that.”

“So I heard.”

Gus sighed impatiently. “You’re being difficult, Daddy.”

Brian bent and looked into the boy’s eyes. “It’s an adult thing. You’ll have to wait a while before you can understand.”

“How long do I have to wait?”

Brian shrugged. “I’m only just beginning to get it. Maybe you’ll be smarter than I am. You might get it sooner.”

“I don't want you to be angry at Justin. Justin is nice. You’re nice with Justin.”

Brian bit his lip, and Justin found himself wishing the boy was less perceptive, or at least, less outspoken.

“Look, Gus. I don't have reason to be angry with Justin. I just am. The less we talk about it, the sooner I’ll get over it. Okay?”

“Okay,” Gus shrugged, but then rolled his eyes at Justin behind Brian's back. 

Justin winked at him, trying not to laugh. Had Brian been this precocious as a boy?

Gordon came back, holding the T-shirt for Gus to see. “Now, how’s that, young man?”

Gus tilted his head and looked at the T-shirt critically. “I’ll have to wear it over my trousers, or it’ll spoil the image. Can I have one like that in light-blue as well, Daddy? But the picture needs to go a little higher up.”

“Sure,” Brian said. “Any other colors?”

Gus shook his head. “Just the blue, Daddy. Thank you!”

Gordon handed Gus the sketch. “Here, I’ll go get a light-blue one printed. With the picture higher up, as requested.” He winked.

“Don’t you need the picture anymore?”

“No,” Gordon said. “We can run lots of copies from the transfer.”

“Which reminds me,” Brian said. “I want the transfer. No other prints; the work is copyrighted to Mr. Taylor.”

“Yes, sir,” Gordon said smoothly, and left. 

Too smoothly, Justin felt.

Brian frowned. “What makes me think he was going to run off a hundred copies or so?”

“I don’t know,” Justin grinned. “But I think you’re thinking the right thing.”

Gus beamed at Brian. “If we have the transfer, I can have more T-shirts done later, can’t I?”

“Theoretically, yes,” Brian said.

Gus grinned. “That’s good. I can still have the same T-shirt when I’m as tall as you.”

“Terrific,” Brian muttered. “Let’s hope your taste improves by the time you’re that tall.”

“You said it is a good picture,” Gus frowned.

“It is,” Brian said. “But do you really want to run around with a comic-hero on your chest when you’re grown-up?”

“Michael does,” Gus shrugged.

“Unfortunately,” Brian said. “Do yourself a favor and find a better role-model.”

Gordon returned with the blue T-shirt and the transfer, and handed both to Brian.

“You still have a play area in the basement, don’t you?” Brian asked, passing the transfer to Justin, who put it in with his sketch-book.

“Yes,” Gordon said. “Maureen is on duty today.”

Brian nodded. “We’ll take the kids downstairs, then. Add all the stuff to my account; we’ll pick it up when we leave.”

“Certainly, Mr. Kinney.”

“What’s down here,” JR asked as they rode the elevator down.

“A place for you to play, while I go shopping,” Brian said.

“You’ll remember to pick us up, won’t you,” Gus said worriedly.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “We’ll remember.”

Gus shrugged. “Mom forgot us in the mall the other day.”

“Did she? I won’t forget, I promise.”

A pretty and cheerful-looking red-head with beautiful green eyes was waiting for them at the entrance of a large playground filled with slides, swings and see-saws. Justin saw that there was also a corner with teddy-bears and dolls, toy-cars and coloring books. Light came in through light wells, so that everything looked bright and vibrant.

“Hello, Mr. Kinney, I’m Maureen,” she said and looked at the kids. “Now, which one is Gus, and which one JR… let me see… I think this here is Gus.” She winked at Gus and held out her hand to JR.

JR giggled. “No. I’m JR. I’m a girl.”

“Gee, so you are. My, I’m silly. Then you must be Gus.”

Gus solemnly shook her hand. “That’s right, I am.”

“Nice to meet you guys, so what do you want to play?”

“JR likes dolls,” Gus said. “And I like slides.”

“Well, go and play,” Brian said. “Have fun. We’ll be about two hours, Maureen, maybe a bit longer.”

“I’ll be here,” Maureen grinned. “And I’ll make sure that so are your kids.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Brian said. “I’m rather attached to them.”

Maureen laughed. “Yes, I can see that. Not to worry, they’ll be fine.”

 

They got back into the elevator, and Justin waited for the doors to close before he spoke. “Brian. I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“Drop it, Justin,” Brian said sharply. “Sorry is bullshit, and it’s even more bullshit when you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.”

Justin sighed. “You're right. I had a feeling you’d not be too keen on the motif, but I don’t know why you're that pissed at me. It’s just a drawing, after all. You can always take it back down when Gus is gone.”

“It’s not about the fucking drawing, Justin. I told you, you don't get it. I also told you, repeatedly, to drop it. Now, talk about the weather or something.”

Justin sighed again. “Why don’t we just pick up the kids and go home.”

With an angry motion, Brian hit the emergency switch and stopped the elevator. “Drop it. Which one of the two words don’t you understand?”

Justin raised his hands. “Okay. Okay. I just thought you wanted to go home.”

Brian closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “Has it ever, ever occurred to you that I’m doing exactly what I want to do? If I wanted to go home, I would have said so. Right now, I want to get you out of those ridiculous clothes and into something that looks good on you. Then, I want you to go get a haircut that’ll make you seem like an adult. After that, we’ll take the kids for some ice-cream. Then, maybe, I’ll be ready to go home. Now, did you get that, Mr. Taylor?”

Justin leaned against the cool metal of the wall, and looked at Brian. Shit, he looked exhausted. Suddenly, he remembered that it was never work or play that drained Brian. It was other people. Now, it seemed he had become one of those people.

“I don’t remember it ever being this difficult, Brian.”

Brian shrugged. “It wasn’t.”

Sighing, Justin nodded. “What do I do about it?”

“You figure it out,” Brian said, sounding exasperated. “Why do you keep asking me?”

“Because I can’t comprehend what I’m doing wrong, and you are the only one who can tell me.”

Brian studied him for a long moment, and Justin was beginning to feel uncomfortable under the close scrutiny. “What makes you think I can tell you? If you don’t know, it’s because you aren’t in a position to get it.”

“You said to Gus he’d have to grow up before he can understand why you’re mad at me. Are you saying I have to grow up?” Justin frowned.

“Touchy, much?” Brian said sardonically. “I didn't say Gus needed to grow up. I said he needed to grow older. You learn from experience.”

Justin felt like stamping his foot, instantly realizing that the impulse put him at the same emotional age as Gus. Great. “Learn what, Brian?”

Brian drew a deep breath. “Christ, I hate people.”

With an effort, Justin stayed silent.

“You’re taxing my patience, Justin. Really. Taxing,” Brian said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I want you to drop it, you keep badgering me. I tell you I can’t explain, you keep asking. What does it take to get through to you, a sledgehammer?”

“I need to understand.”

“This isn’t about what you need. It’s about hearing me.”

“I hear you,” Justin said wearily. “I don't understand you.”

“So what else is new,” Brian said bitterly.

The words were like a physical blow, yet, somehow, even more painful. Justin fought for breath.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t mean to.”

Justin sighed. “I know that, actually.”

They were silent for long moments, and Justin shied away from his own thoughts, wondering instead what Brian might be thinking. Had he ever known what Brian was thinking?

“Brian. Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Get clothes. Get a haircut,” Brian said, through clenched teeth.

“Fine,” Justin groaned. “Let’s. I won't say another word.” 

“We'll see,” Brian raised an eyebrow at him. “I seem to remember you have an unerring capacity for putting your foot in your mouth.”

“That’s one thing I’m capable of,” Justin agreed, appreciating Brian’s attempt to lighten the mood.

Brian reached out, and Justin went into his arms all too willingly. He slipped his arms around Brian’s waist, holding tight. 

How odd, that it was still possible to be this close, to derive so much comfort from each other’s presence. Brian's warmth, his scent, his strength – so familiar, so exciting. No longer his. Right now, Justin felt the loss keenly.

Finally, Brian pulled back. “Ready to go shopping?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Justin muttered, giving one last squeeze before letting go.

Brian put the elevator back in motion, and they rode up in silence.

 

“Ah, Brian, mon cher ami,” Pierre positively purred as he pulled Brian into a hug. If he had noticed that the elevator had been halted for quite some time, he didn't let on.

Justin tried not to grin. Pierre had been Brian's tailor for more than ten years, and he knew they were fond of one another. He still didn’t know whether they’d ever fucked, but he thought it unlikely. Pierre was too much of a fairy for Brian.

Brian returned the embrace and smiled. “Long time no see, mon précieux Pierre.”

Pierre laughed. “So true. Let me go check whether that jacket is ready. I believe it is.”

“Later,” Brian said. “First, we have to deal with a fashion disaster. You remember Justin Taylor?”

“I most certainly do,” Pierre beamed at Justin. “Our young artist. How was New York?”

“Okay, I guess, “Justin said.

Pierre looked at him with raised eyebrows. “I sense a marked lack of enthusiasm, non?”

“Oui,” Brian grinned.

Pierre nodded. “Bon. What do we need?”

Brian shrugged. “Everything.”

“Yes,” Pierre muttered, looking at Justin critically. “That haircut. You need to do something about that. Back into hoodies, I see. And those jeans! Did they ever fit properly? That T-shirt needs to go into the trash. Non, non, this will never do. This requires work. Where to start?”

“Start with slacks,” Brian suggested. “We’ll go from there.”

“Slacks it is. Has your size changed, my dear boy?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Justin said.

Pierre shook his head. “You look thinner to me. Try these on and we’ll see.”

Justin vanished into a changing-booth and quickly slipped into the gray trousers Pierre had handed him. They were a bit loose, but a belt would take care of that. He could hear Brian and Pierre talk in an undertone, and he hated the idea that they were discussing him.

“That was quick,” Pierre beamed. “Let’s look at these. Yes, yes, very good. A size smaller then. Très bien.”

Apparently, Brian had already picked out other colors, because Pierre handed him another four pairs of trousers. Justin liked the white, blue and grass-colored ones, but he frowned at the brown pants. “Why brown?”

“To go with the jacket you’re going to buy,” Brian grinned.

“I’m not buying a brown jacket,” Justin protested.

“Of course you're not,” Brian and Pierre said in unison, and laughed.

Sighing, Justin went back into the booth to try on the other pants.

“Keep the whites till last,” Brian said from behind the curtain. “They’ll go with any shirt.”

Justin bit his lip. There was a time when Brian would have come into the booth, and there would have been laughter and kisses and warm hands on his skin. Shopping had been a lot more fun then.

By the time Justin was ready to try on the white trousers, Brian had selected several shirts and was looking at ties.

“I don’t need a tie,” Justin said.

Brian sighed. “Never buy a shirt without a matching tie or two. Haven’t I taught you anything?”

Pierre shook his head. “You’ve forgotten it all, have you, Justin?”

“I wish I could,” Justin heard Brian mutter. 

Hadn’t he heard him say something like that before? When? He shot him a quick look, but Brian had his back to him.

Justin shrugged into the first shirt, a light blue that looked just right on him. Brian had always had a knack for choosing colors for him, and had joked that as an artist, Justin ought to be able to do it himself.

Brian came up with a tie in a slightly darker blue, and knotted it for him. “There. Perfect. Pierre, what about jackets?”

Pierre came up with an assortment of blazers in dark blue, maroon and hunter-green.

“What got into you, Pierre?” Brian protested. “Those colors will make him look like a school-boy.”

Pierre shrugged. “I thought you’d like that, non?”

“Mais non,” Brian said with a touch of asperity. “I don’t like. Justin needs cool colors, mint, light-blue, that sort of thing.”

“The maroon looks quite nice, actually,” Justin said.

“Yeah. Want a school-tie, too?”

Justin shrugged. “Huh. Better than brown.”

“Who said anything about brown? You can combine the brown slacks with a white jacket, or a blue one. Black will go. Even green, if you’re careful about the shirt.”

“You have it all planned out, don't you?”

“I do. That's what you do when you put your wardrobe together.”

“I don’t really need all this stuff, Brian.”

“Justin,” Brian drew him close and continued in a low voice. “You lived with Snoop Debbie Deb. She told me that ‘Sunshine owns exactly two pairs of jeans, one pair of sneakers and a handful of T-shirts’. That might be enough when you’re seventeen, but it’s not enough now. So, shut up about it, will you?”

Justin felt himself blush. He should have remembered that Debbie didn't consider other people’s private stuff private.

Brian’s arms circled his waist, and Justin leaned into the loose embrace. “I’ve always liked spoiling you,” Brian murmured. “And getting you new clothes is fun.”

Justin rested his head on Brian’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to spoil your fun.”

Pierre returned with another handful of blazers. “Let's try these, shall we?”

“Much better,” Brian said, satisfied. “Here, try the white one first.”

“C’est bon,” Pierre said.

“C’est très bon,” Brian grinned. “You look hot, Justin.”

Justin had to agree, the white slacks and jacket looked just right with the blue shirt and tie.

“You need a belt, though,” Brian said. “Try the green shirt, and I’ll go find one.”

Justin got into the green shirt, and put the white blazer back on. That looked pretty good, too, but he liked the blue better.

“The wrong color green,” Brian decided when he came back. “Go for mint, that kind of green makes you look too pale. Here, try the belt.”

Justin shook his head. “No way.”

“Way,” Brian insisted, pulling the belt through the loops for him.

Justin sighed. He’d never buy something that elaborate. The belt shimmered in a metallic white, braided with silver, and the silver buckle was a serpent with tiny ruby eyes. When fastened, it looked like the snake bit its own tail. It added something to the trousers, though.

“It’ll go with all your pants,” Brian said. “Even jeans. Which reminds me, Pierre, we need two or three pairs of jeans, as well. Make that four. No, five. Some T-shirts. And something a bit more dashing for the disco.”

“Coming right up,” Pierre beamed. “That reminds me of the first time you brought Justin here.”

“He’s back to being a regular,” Brian said.

“Fabulous,” Pierre grinned. “New York played havoc with his fashion sense.”

“What sense?” Brian shot back. “He never had any.”

“Sadly, that’s true.” Pierre winked at Justin. “But what’s one little deficit between friends.”

Justin laughed. “Thanks a lot, Pierre.”

“Well,” Pierre shrugged and brushed an imaginary piece of lint from his sleeve. “What do you expect, waltzing into my place wearing one of those dreadful hoodies.”

“Brian hates them, too.”

“With good reason,” Pierre said. “They make you look like you were a hunchback.”

“They’re comfortable,” Justin shrugged.

Pierre and Brian exchanged an exasperated look, and Pierre shook his head. “It’s a good job he’s back under your wing. At this rate, he’d wear T-shirts with logos on them.”

“Or super-heroes,” Brian said.

Okay. Now Brian was making comments about age? Or was that just a joke, with no ulterior meaning? It was difficult to tell, Brian had the best poker-face Justin had ever seen.

“Non, non, that will not do,” Pierre objected. “That’s too ghastly to contemplate.”

Brian grinned. “Keep at him, Pierre. We’ll enforce some fashion sense yet.”

“Guys. I’m not that bad,” Justin protested.

“You’re bad,” Brian said. “Very bad.”

“Hoodies,” Pierre said meaningfully. “Brian is right, you are bad. But we will change that, non?”

“I’m sure you will,” Justin muttered resignedly.

Justin ended up with a dozen trousers with matching shirts and ties, six jackets, four sweaters and some twenty T-shirts in assorted colors. Brian had found another two belts, one was a simple black one that Justin decided was probably going to be his favorite, the other was bronze with a heavy bronze buckle. It made his waist look impossibly slim, but it also invariably directed the gaze at his crotch. Justin knew that Brian was perfectly comfortable with such details, but he wasn’t sure he was. Brian also insisted he buy several new pairs of shoes, and not just sneakers, either.

Justin decided he wanted to wear the new jeans with a tank-top and white dress-shirt straight away, and stood in front of the mirror, admiring himself.

“Much better,” Brian muttered, slipping an arm around his shoulders. “Admit it, you do like looking good.”

“I do,” Justin said. “I just couldn’t be bothered recently.”

Brian frowned and shook his head. “You’ve got to bother, for yourself. Now, can I risk you getting your own underwear, or are you going to go for boxers and tennis-socks?”

Justin grinned at Brian's reflection. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Off you go, and no looking at prices.”

Justin shook his head, and set off to buy what he needed.

When he returned, Brian was standing in front of the mirror, sipping a Latte. Good, Justin thought, remembering that Judson had told him to make sure Brian got enough to drink.

Then the clothes registered, and Justin stood still, staring.

Brian was wearing a smooth leather-jacket over his white T-shirt, trousers and boots to match. The boots had quite a heel, and Brian didn’t really need the height. It looked terrific, though. Justin knew that he’d never have the guts to wear this kind of thing. 

The trousers were body-hugging, like most of Brian’s pants. The jacket ended at his waist, the sleeves had three tiny sparkling silver buttons and were snug around his wrists, and the stand-up collar was just right for Brian. Breathtaking. And that color… lilac was impossibly hot on Brian.

Pierre was fiddling with the zipper of the jacket, and adjusting something at Brian’s waist.

“Wow,” Justin said, stepping up next to Brian. “Hot. Hotter than hot.”

“Thanks,” Brian smiled, gesturing with the cup. “Try that jacket.”

Justin picked up the leather jacket Brian had indicated, and immediately knew it had to cost a bomb. The leather was incredibly supple and soft, the color a beautiful midnight-blue. He wanted this bomber-style jacket, badly. And yet, he hesitated.

“Justin.”

He knew that tone, somewhere between patience and irritation. Still… 

Brian wasn’t his boyfriend anymore. What were they, anyway? Friends? Had they ever been friends? Was there even a basis for friendship? Would you let a friend buy you things? He wasn’t comfortable accepting all these clothes to start off with, and that jacket probably cost half as much again.

“Non, it will not work. I’ll have to get this changed,” Pierre decided, and Brian shrugged out of his jacket. “I won’t be long, Brian.”

“Look at me.” Brian put the empty cup on the counter and put his hands on Justin’s shoulders. “Will you look at me? What’s wrong?”

Justin managed to meet his eyes, just. “I’m not sure about all this stuff,” he gestured helplessly. “It doesn’t feel right.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” Justin shrugged. “It just doesn't.”

“Look, Justin. I said I want you to figure out what you want from life. I want you to be able to go anywhere, and do anything. You need the right kind of clothes for that. You’re not twenty anymore, you can’t turn up for a job interview in chinos and a college jacket. Regard it as an investment in your future.”

“One decent pair of trousers and a good shirt would do.”

“Clothes are part of the image. Not just the image other people have of you, but also the image you have of yourself. If you can’t be fucking bothered with yourself, why should others bother with you? Now, stop making a scene. Try the jacket.”

“You’re very convincing,” Justin sighed, and got into the jacket. It felt wonderful, smooth and cool and snug, like the proverbial second skin.

“What do you expect, I’m an ad-man,” Brian grinned. “That jacket was made for you.”

“Indeed,” Pierre said, handing Brian his. “Merveilleux.”

“Have a look,” Brian pulled him in front of the mirror.

Oh yes. It definitely looked as though the jacket was made for him. It fit perfectly, and Justin knew that now there was no way he could say no. Not that he really wanted to.

“You always look striking together,” Pierre said softly, and Justin took another look. Pierre was right.

“We’ll take it. I guess that’s everything, then,” Brian said. “We’ll take the disco outfit, the white ensemble and two pairs of the jeans with us. And these,” he quickly picked up a few of the T-shirts and some underwear. “Send the rest to the apartment a week Tuesday, Pierre, s’il vous plait.”

“I can add it to your account,” Pierre said when Brian handed him one of his credit cards.

Brian shook his head. “No, I’ll pay for this lot straight away.”

“As you wish,” Pierre shrugged, quickly added up their purchases and carefully put the items Brian had selected into bags. He gave Justin the bags and handed the sales slip and credit card back to Brian when he had changed back into his jeans. “A week Tuesday, in the afternoon, oui?”

“Très bien,” Brian said. “Merci beaucoup, Pierre.”

“Not at all, not at all,” Pierre beamed. “It was nice seeing you together again, and it will be nicer still when Justin has had a new haircut.”

Justin rolled his eyes, and Brian snorted. “I have to agree. Au revoir, Pierre.”

“I’ll have the clothes for the kids taken to the car for you. Au revoir, boys!”

 

Brian pulled him into the elevator, grinning. “Hey hey, ho ho, long hair has got to go.”

Justin laughed. “Have it your way. I can always go back to the Pink Posse cut.”

“A little too short,” Brian said. “Your mother would have a fit.”

“You liked it,” Justin shrugged.

As soon as the doors opened, both kids were there. 

“Daddy! You took a long time,” Gus complained.

Brian checked his watch. “Actually, we were faster than I thought, Gus. Didn’t you enjoy playing with Maureen?”

“We did,” Gus said. “She’s fun.”

“We played on the see-saw together,” JR said. “I went up so high!”

“They’re great kids. Only they were a little worried you might forget them here. I told them we have your phone-number, but I don’t think that helped.” Maureen smiled. “JR is very eager to show off her new finery to her mom, and Gus just wanted his dad back.”

“Here’s a little thank-you for looking after my kids, Maureen,” Brian handed her a green silk scarf he had picked out earlier.

“Oh, that’s beautiful!” Maureen beamed. “Thank you so much, Mr. Kinney!”

“You’re welcome,” Brian smiled. “Come on, you lot, we’re off to the next stop. Bye Maureen!”


	10. Ten

They stepped back into the elevator, and JR asked, “Ice-cream, Dada?”

“I’d thought we’d get you a haircut first,” Brian said.

“I’m thirsty, Daddy,” Gus said. “Can we get a drink?”

“Sure, we can pop into that diner over there. We’ll go for an ice-cream after, okay, JR?”

JR nodded. “Need to go!”

“All the more reason to go into the diner,” Brian said. “What do you guys want to drink?”

“Lemonade,” JR said.

“Orange-juice,” Gus said. “With ice!”

“I’ll take JR to the bathroom. Order a soda for me, Justin? Hold the ice.”

Justin nodded and settled into a booth with Gus. The waitress arrived a moment later, and he ordered their drinks. She vanished with a distracted smile and a nod.

“Did it take a long time?” Gus asked.

“Did what take a long time,” Justin said, puzzled.

“For daddy to cool down,” Gus said, sighing impatiently.

Probably because I’m so slow on the uptake, Justin thought, careful not to grin. “No, it didn’t take long.”

“Why didn’t he like the drawing? It’s just a drawing?”

Justin shrugged. “I asked, but he said it’s something he can’t explain.”

Gus giggled. “You’re too young, too. How old are you, Justin?”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“He’s too old for you, sonny-boy,” Brian said, helping JR into her chair and slipping into the seat next to Justin.

“But he’s too young for you,” Gus shot back, frowning.

Justin held his breath. If an adult had said that…

Brian shrugged. “He’s always been too young for me,” he said easily. “But he wouldn't listen when I told him.”

Gus copied the gesture. “Jimmy told Dave that’s because you’re so hot.”

Amused, Justin watched as Brian’s lids fluttered. “Listen to me, Gus. Are you listening?”

“I’m listening,” Gus said.

“Me, too,” JR said eagerly.

“Good,” Brian gave her a quick smile. “JR. Gus. Don’t repeat conversations you overheard. It's bound to get you into trouble.”

“That’s because you grown-ups have so many secrets. You’re all scared something will slip out. Besides, Dave said you already know Jimmy wants to go down on you.”

The waitress had arrived at their table right then, and now she turned a delicate shade of pink.

Brian raised an aloof eyebrow at her, as though that was the kind of conversation all parents had with their kids.

He could get away with that sort of thing, Justin reflected. But why? Was it the cool elegance Brian exuded, even in jeans and T-shirt? The confidence? Or the attitude?

Hastily, the waitress put down the drinks and left, looking scandalized.

“For future reference, sonny-boy – you shouldn’t make that kind of comment in a public place until you’re much older.”

“How old,” Gus asked, unfazed.

Brian sighed softly. “Wait twenty years.”

“That doesn't work. I won’t be able to talk to you about important things until then. Only if we’re at home,” Gus frowned. “Straight people will just have to put up with it. Or not listen to me.”

Justin grinned. “He sounds just like you.”

“I guess we’ll have to stay away from the straight folks,” Brian said.

“Their places are boring, anyway,” Gus stated.

Justin looked around. True. The place was boring. An ordinary diner. Nothing to attract the eye, and nothing that might make you want to hang around. Gay places were a lot more fun, especially the Rainbow ones.

“Well, if you finished your drinks, we can leave,” Brian said, downing the rest of his soda.

The kids scrambled from their places, and Brian tossed twenty bucks on the table. 

“Way too much,” Justin murmured.

“I’m compensating her for loss of composure,” Brian whispered back.

Justin laughed.

They walked back to the car, JR holding Brian’s hand and skipping along.

“Okay, where to now,” Justin asked when they had all climbed in.

“Hairdresser,” Brian and the kids said in unison.

Justin shook his head. “You practiced that, didn’t you?”

“Did not,” Gus said. “Are you going to get a haircut, too?”

“Don’t you start,” Justin said, exasperated. “What’s with my hair?”

“It’s too long and all untidy,” Gus said matter-of-factly. “Daddy’s hair looks much nicer.”

“You must be gay,” Justin decided. “Other kids your age don't even notice such things.”

He shot Brian a quick look, who wore his sunglasses, hiding his eyes. But his lips were twitching, and Justin grinned in response and shook his head.

“Right. Where is that hairdresser?”

“Turn right at the lights,” Brian directed. “Then the next left.”

A few more right and left turns, and they stopped in front of fancy-looking barber’s shop.

“Everybody out,” Brian said. “You all look like fucking hobos.”

“Much better to look like a fucking homo,” Justin quipped.

Brian groaned. “That was awful.”

 

“Come back in a month. I’m not taking off another millimeter, Brian. Not even a tenth of a millimeter. Your hair is fine. You look great.”

“Glad to hear it, Stephen,” Brian said wryly. “I’m not here about my hair. It’s their hair I’m worried about.”

“With good reason,” Stephen said, frowning at Justin. “What's this, you have a bad hair day? That style went out of fashion before you were even born, dude.”

Brian smirked. “Do something about it.”

“With pleasure,” Stephen said. “Come along. When I’m through with you, you’ll look almost human.”

“Gee, thanks,” Justin said. “Too kind.”

Brian winked at him. “He always talks like that. But he’s a wizard with a pair of scissors. Trust him.”

“Come on, come on. I haven’t got all day,” Stephen said impatiently. “Forty minutes, Brian.”

Brian nodded. “I’ll get the kids done.”

“You do that. Is that a girl behind that fringe? Dreadful. Janice! Janice! Emergency!”

A not-so-young woman with bright purple hair appeared from behind a curtain. “Calm down, Stephen. I’m at work, not on a prison break.”

She smiled at the kids. “Ladies first, right? Come on, honey, we’ll get you a haircut to go with that pretty dress you're wearing.”

“It’s new,” Justin heard before Stephen grabbed his arm and propelled him along.

 

Brian had been right, Stephen was a wizard. A very uncommunicative wizard who never asked what Justin wanted done. He washed, conditioned, cut and dried Justin’s hair, and Justin was amazed how good he looked.

“That’s a great cut,” Justin said, well pleased.

“Of course it is,” Stephen said condescendingly. “I did it.”

“Well,” Justin cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

“Come back here, you hear? Don't let some ham-fisted jerk spoil my work.”

“I won’t,” Justin promised. Stephen would probably break his arm if he did, he thought.

Brian was already waiting for him with the kids. JR looked lovely, the bouncy bob was just right for her. Justin grinned, Gus clearly had his hair cut ‘like daddy’, and looked even more like a very miniature version of Brian.

“Better,” Brian said, satisfied.

“What do you mean, better,” Stephen said grumpily. “It’s perfect. Wash and dry and be back here in four weeks. Styled for the dude who can’t be bothered with styling.”

“Good thinking,” Brian said, sounding amused.

Justin didn't think it was funny. Stephen irritated the hell out of him.

“Account?”

“Yes,” Brian said.

“Fine, see you in four weeks. No sooner! Bye.”

Stephen vanished behind the curtain and Brian tilted his head. “Ice-cream, gang?”

“Oh, yes!” JR chirped up. “I’m all pretty now! Look Justin!”

“You’re very pretty,” Justin said. “You look beautiful in your new clothes and with that smart haircut!”

JR beamed at him, “And Gus looks nice, too.”

“Gus looks like his dad,” Justin commented, earning himself a delighted smile from Gus, and a pleased look from Brian.

“You look cool,” Gus said. “Much, much better.”

“You guys about finished with the mutual appreciation society?” Brian combed gentle fingers into the newly short hair at his nape, and Justin automatically arched into the touch. Brian let go as if burned.

“Can we go to ‘Rainbow on Ice’, Daddy,” Gus asked, and told Justin, “They’ve got the best strawberry sundae ever!”

“Well, everybody get into the car,” Brian said. “Back to Penn, Justin.”

Justin just nodded, still wondering what that touch had been all about. Almost as if Brian had acted without thinking, and it definitely wasn't normal. Brian only did that when he was completely at ease. Fuck. Being with Brian had been so uncomplicated. But of course, that was before he had started to think, and to catalogue the reactions. Now it was like standing on thin ice, a careless step could plunge you into sub-zero black depths.

Once in the car, Brian immediately started the CD player, turning up the volume. You had to turn it up for ‘I Will Survive’, everybody did that. But Justin suspected Brian did it because he wanted to avoid talking.

 

They arrived at the ice-cream parlor just when Justin began to feel the silence was oppressive. 

The kids clambered out of the car happily, JR swirling her skirt. “Am I pretty, Dada?”

“You’re very pretty, princess,” Brian confirmed.

“Am I pretty,” Gus asked.

“Boys aren’t pretty,” Brian replied. “You’re handsome.”

“And your dad is dashing,” Justin grinned.

Brian was hiding behind the Ray-Bans again, there seemed to be no reaction. Justin’s gut-feeling said otherwise.

The parlor was a lot like the diner and ‘Rainbow Provisions’, the stamp of the owner’s taste quite obvious.

“You know the guy who owns these,” Justin wanted to know as they sat down.

“Yes,” Brian said.

“Like him?”

Brian took off the sunglasses and gave him a stern look. “Why do you ask?”

Justin shrugged. “You seem to share the same taste.”

Brian looked around as though seeing the parlor for the first time. “You could say that.”

“So, do you like him?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Did you fuck him?”

“None of your fucking business,” Brian shot back, and Justin knew he should have swallowed that last question.

“I want a big sundae,” JR announced. “Real big.”

“Huge,” Gus supplied, grinning. “Enormous.”

“Knock yourselves out,” Brian said. “You order, Justin?”

Justin wondered why Brian kept vanishing into the bathroom.

“Taking stomach pills,” Gus said, as if he could read his mind. “Don’t tell.”

Justin smiled at the boy. “Thanks, Gus. I was getting worried.”

Gus nodded. “I could see that. You really like my dad.”

“I do.”

“He likes you, too,” Gus said. “He doesn’t get mad with people he doesn’t like.” 

Justin ordered four large strawberry sundaes, and the kids tucked in happily.

Brian returned, looked at the big goblet and raised that eyebrow at him. “What do I do with that?”

“Eat it,” Justin and Gus said in unison, and grinned at each other.

“Are you nuts?” Brian sighed. “That’ll get me two hours on the stair-master.”

Justin shook his head. “Won’t. You worked it off in the pool this morning.”

Brian picked up the long spoon, dipping it in with visible reluctance.

Justin smiled and filled his own spoon, then nudged Brian’s knee with his own. Brian looked up, and, holding his eyes, Justin ran the tip of his tongue around the spoon before immersing it in the sweet stuff.

Brian raised an eyebrow, lifted his spoon to his mouth and slowly licked the underside, traced the tip of his tongue around the edge of the spoon very deliberately, then swirled his tongue through the cream, scooping it up.

Justin caught his breath. Trust Brian to up the ante. Well, two could play that game. He brought the spoon to his mouth, and slowly lapped up the contents with just the tip of his tongue, his eyes on Brian.

Brian’s eyes widened, he picked up a strawberry, licked it, then sucked it in and squashed it against the roof of his open mouth, swallowing slowly. The juice stained his lips a moist red.

Justin sighed. Fuck, he remembered those moments. Remembered them all too well, actually, if the tightness in his jeans was anything to go by. Brian would win this one hands down.

Justin lifted the spoon and slowly sucked it into his mouth, hardly tasting the ice-cream, he was so caught up in how Brian's eyes changed. Emotion of any kind always seemed to bring out the green and gold more distinctly.

With a look of pure challenge, Brian brought the spoon up, swirled his tongue around the edge, then sucked it into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing just so.

Justin swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

“You’re in over your head, and you know it,” Brian whispered huskily. He picked up another strawberry, did that squashing thing again and then surprised Justin by leaning forward and transferring the sweet sticky mass to his mouth.

Justin closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, forgetting himself.

“Do remember you're in public, Brian,” Cynthia’s amused voice brought Justin back to reality with a nasty jolt. “Long time no see, Justin. Hi kids!”

“Thanks for the reminder, Cynthia,” Brian greeted evenly. “Nice hair-do.”

Justin smiled. “Hi Cynthia. You look amazing.”

Cynthia tossed her long blue hair, grinning. “Brian’s idea. I love it.”

“So, how many guys have hit on you today?”

“I lost count, Brian,” Cynthia smiled. “Enough to give my ego a big boost, that’s for sure. I actually came in here for a bit of a break.”

“Join us,” Brian invited, and Justin wondered whether it was half-hearted. Or maybe Brian was glad to be rescued?

Cynthia shook her head. “Three’s a crowd. I’m just having a quick coffee, and then I’m heading over to Macy’s for some stuff. Nice seeing you again, Justin. Don’t be a stranger!”

Cynthia walked away, the shiny strands swinging in her back, and Gus looked after her with a frown. “Why don’t we count, Daddy?”

Brian smiled. “You count, sonny-boy.”

“You and Justin and JR and me, that’s four. Why does Cynthia say three is a crowd?”

Brian replied, “It’s just something folks say. When two people are in love, they’d prefer to be alone.”

Gus nodded thoughtfully. “Are you in love with Justin?”

Justin held his breath. Brian shot him a quick glance out of the corner of his eye, and Justin suppressed a grin. Caught between a rock and a hard place, he thought.

The silence stretched, and Gus tilted his head the way Brian sometimes did, looking at his father expectantly.

Brian slowly ate two more spoonfuls of his sundae, and finally said, “I don’t know the answer, Gus.”

Gus shook his head. “You know. You don't want to say.”

Strangely, that had been what Justin was thinking.

Brian sighed. “I really don’t know. If I knew, I’d say.”

Gus rolled his eyes, and Justin wondered where he got that from. Melanie certainly did a fair amount of eye-rolling, but Justin had a feeling the kid wouldn't want to copy her.

“Is everything this complicated when you grow up?”

Brian licked his spoon pensively. “Some things get easier, but emotions seem to get more complicated, the older you get.”

“Do people become more complicated?”

“Yes,” Brian said, “Age adds baggage.”

“I don’t understand that, Daddy.”

“What I mean is, as you get older, you experience more things. Some of these experiences are unpleasant, and they influence your thinking. So, the more you have to think, the more complicated it seems to be to deal with other people.”

Gus sighed, very Brian-like. “I’m not going to grow up.”

“There’s nothing you can do about that, I’m afraid,” Brian said. “You can decide you don’t want to grow old, but you’ll be grown up before you know it. You already started.”

“Is Grandpa Richard old?”

“No. For his age, he’s very young.”

“Are you going to be like him when you’re that old?”

“I rather hope so, Gus.”

Gus nodded. “You know, Daddy, I think you are in love with Justin. Only, you think you shouldn’t be. Sometimes, you make things complicated all by yourself.”

Brian choked on his ice-cream, and Justin had to pat his back for a few moments before the coughing stopped. 

His eyes damp, Brian looked at his son. “I do?”

“Yes,” Gus said. “Now, I need to go to the bathroom.”

Brian was about to get up, but Justin put a hand on his shoulder. “Stay with JR, I need to go anyway.”

Brian shrugged and went back to his sundae.

Justin took a very quiet Gus to the bathroom. They did what needed to be done, and just as Justin was about to open the door, Gus looked up at him.

“I overheard my mom and yours,” he said. “Why did you leave?”

Justin sighed. “First your dad, and now you’re grilling me? I left because I was an idiot.”

“Are you still an idiot,” Gus asked seriously. “Because if you are, you can’t have him back.”

“I’m not sure,” Justin shrugged. “I hope not.”

Gus frowned up at him. “Don’t you know?”

Justin went down on one knee like Brian always did. “It’s other people who tell you when you’re being a fool. You yourself are usually the last person to know.”

“And are you in love with my dad?”

“Yes,” Justin said. “I love your father, and I’m in love with him.”

Gus nodded. “Ted said to Michael that Judson is just keeping your side of the bed warm. It didn’t sound very nice.”

Justin bit his lip. “That’s atrocious. Ted doesn’t know your dad, not one bit. He’s not like that. He doesn't use people. Whatever you do, don’t repeat that to your father. He’d be really hurt.”

“I know,” Gus said sagely. “I don’t like Ted.”

“I think Ted is one of those experiences your dad was just talking about. He can be a right asshole, but he’s got moments when he's very nice.”

Gus grinned. “But the nice moments are short, and the asshole moments are too long.”

“True,” Justin laughed. “You’re onto him.”

They returned to the table, to find JR giggling madly.

Gus smiled at her indulgently. “What’s so funny?”

“Dada is funny,” JR giggled. “You were gone such a long time! And Dada said one of you had fallen into the toilet. Or got tangled up in the towels. Or slipped on some soap. Or got all wet and were ashamed to come back.”

“Charming,” Justin muttered, giving Brian a look of mock disgust.

“Oh, oh,” JR giggled. “Now I’m in a hurry to go!”

Brian got up, swept her out of her seat and took her to the toilets.

“He always makes her laugh,” Gus said contentedly.

“It’s pretty easy to make her laugh, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Gus said. “But we don’t laugh so much in Toronto.”

Strange, Justin thought. Why didn’t Gus call Toronto home?

“Why is that,” Justin asked.

Gus shrugged. “Our moms are always fighting.”

“Talk to your dad,” Justin urged. “He can help.”

“I’m thinking about that. Daddy said I need to know whether the need is more than the want-not, and I still don’t know,” Gus frowned.

Brian came back with JR, who was still giggling.

“You didn’t fall in,” Gus smiled.

JR shook her head. “You can’t fall in when Dada holds you. And I was in time, too!”

“Good girl,” Gus praised. “You’re learning.”

JR grinned. “Dada can move real fast.”

“Are we going home now, Daddy?”

“Why, are you tired?”

Gus shook his head. “I don’t want to go back yet.” 

He looked at Brian expectantly.

Brian seemed to hesitate. “Are you tired, JR?”

JR smiled. “No! I can walk in my shoes, and everybody can see my new dress! And my hair doesn't tickle!”

Justin watched as Brian sucked his lips into his mouth. He had a feeling that Melanie was going to get an earful, sooner rather than later.

“That leaves you, Justin,” Brian said.

“No, Daddy, I’m not tired,” Justin smirked. “My hair doesn’t tickle, I can walk, and…”

Brian grabbed his neck and shook him playfully. “Cut it out, rascal.”

Justin laughed. It felt so good to mess about with Brian and the kids.

“There’s a playground in the back,” Gus said hopefully.

“Yeah, let’s,” Justin said enthusiastically. “I haven’t been on a swing in ages.”

Brian laughed, tossed some money on the table and pulled him to his feet. “We have to do something about that.”

 

The playground behind the ice-cream parlor was huge, and filled with equipment made by Little Tikes, the same trademark Brian used at home.

Justin realized he hadn't had so much fun in ages. Probably not since leaving Pittsburgh all those months ago.

He took JR for a fast run down the slide, the girl’s happy squeals echoing in his ears. He went on the swings with Gus and tried to beat Brian for height. They climbed all over the jungle gym, after Brian had sworn that it would hold their weight as well as that of the kids. They took turns on the roundabout, until he and Brian were out of breath, and the kids were giggling and dizzy with happiness.

“Thirsty,” JR finally announced.

“So am I,” Gus admitted.

“Me, too,” Justin grinned.

“Hey look, I acquired a third kid.” Brian rolled his eyes. “Come on, gang, time for refreshments. Ice-cream, anybody?”

The kids nodded eagerly, and Justin said, “I will if you do.”

Brian shot him another one of those quick, calculating looks, but shrugged. “Sure, why not. I think I just expanded enough energy to warrant a few more calories.”

They filed back into the ice-cream parlor and the kids begged for drinks and another strawberry sundae. Justin was startled when Brian ordered something called ‘Sunshine on Ice’ for them, and even more startled when their order arrived. Slices of peaches and pineapple were arranged in the shape of sunbeams around a mountain of vanilla and lemon ice-cream, and a thick liqueur trickled over the whole lot.

“Wow, that looks nice,” Gus commented.

Brian smiled at him. “I know it does. But it contains alcohol. No trying for you!”

Gus shrugged and went back to his strawberries.

Feeling Brian’s eyes on him, Justin cautiously tasted the heady mixture.

“Nice,” he said. “Is that pear? How come it’s so yellow?”

“Yes, it’s pear liqueur,” Brian said. “And it’s yellow because it’s colored with saffron.”

“Nice,” Justin said again, wondering what had made Brian order this. But he knew it would be better not to ask. He’d just have to take it as a compliment, and hope it had been intended as such. Or was it a blow?

Brian’s cell jingled, and he listened for a moment, his face neutral. “No, Mel, I have not abducted your daughter. I’ve just bought her some dresses to eat and some ice-cream to wear.” He winked at the little girl.

JR thought for a moment, and then burst into giggles. “Funny,” she said between hiccups. ”Dada is funny!”

“And we’ve got some hair to walk in and new shoes to drink,” Gus said loudly.

“You’ll get her back when she’s finished eating her skirts,” Brian said and closed the connection. “Jeez.”

Justin figured that Brian would think of something else that needed doing before they could head back, just to spite Mel. At least, the old Brian would have, the Brian he had thought he knew so well.

Apparently, Brian hadn’t changed that much. As soon as they stepped outside, Brian glanced at his watch and said, “We’ve forgotten something. We need to find a candy-store; I want to buy JR some candy.”

“I want candy, too,” Gus said immediately.

Brian grinned. “I thought so. Can anybody see a candy-store?”

“Down there,” Justin pointed. “You want to walk, or do we drive?”

“Let’s walk,” Brian decided. “It’s such nice day!”

Justin grinned. “Right. She’s gonna kill you, you know that, don’t you?”

Brian favored him with an innocent look. “Me? What did I do?”

Justin shook his head, surprised when Brian took JR’s hand and draped the free arm across his shoulders. Gus slipped his little warm paw into his fingers, and suddenly, Justin felt like singing.

 

They passed a small shop-window with a display of various frames and some decent artwork, and Gus stopped short.

“Do you have a frame at home for my picture, Daddy?”

“Actually, no, I don’t.”

“I can go in and have it framed, and you guys can go down to the candy-store,” Justin offered.

Now, why had he done that? Just when the weight of Brian’s arm on his shoulder had begun to feel familiar and comfortable again?

“You need to pop back to the car for the painting, don’t you,” Brian asked.

Justin shook his head. “No, I got it here, with my sketch-book.”

“Why do you keep dragging that infernal bag with you?”

“Habit, I guess,” Justin said. Right now, he didn’t want to tell Brian that the bag contained most of his earthly possessions, and that he was reluctant to part with what little he had.

Brian shrugged, took his arm away – damn! – and went into his wallet. He gave him his AE card, and some cash, “In case they don’t take credit cards in there.”

“What kind of frame do you want,” Justin asked.

“Something daddy will like,” Gus said.

Brian grinned. “You know just what I like, don’t you, Justin.”

Yes, he did. And obviously, Brian remembered how little it took to get him hard. Just that crooked grin, that tone of voice and that look… fuck.

Stop thinking about it, Justin told himself sternly. Too late of course, because Brian’s grin had already changed from teasing to knowing. Justin sighed.

“I’ll see you back at the car,” he said. “Have fun, kids.”

Brian raised an eyebrow at him. “Sure you don’t want to come with us? They’re bound to have something you like.”

Justin laughed ruefully and shook his head. “Forbidden fruit, unfortunately. See you!”

He pushed the door open and watched as Brian walked away, the kids holding his hands and talking nine to the dozen. A new project… how do you make that happy chattering and the patient listening visible in a drawing? Actually, it might be easier done in a painting… colors to convey sound? Damn, but he missed having a fellow artist to talk to, toss ideas around with and fight over hues and lines. Lindsay had filled that gap, to some extent. But the people at PIFA had given him a real taste for endless debates, and he still missed that.

“Can I help you, dear?”

Justin whirled at the sound of that kind, slightly rough voice. An elderly woman peered at him from behind the counter, an indulgent smile lightening her features.

“I’d like to draw you,” Justin blurted, without thinking.

The woman laughed, a merry sound. “It’s many a year since anybody said that to me,” she wheezed. “I’m sure you can find a pretty young thing to sit for you. Smile at her like that and she won’t even feel her muscles cramping!”

Justin felt his smile widen. “But I fell in love with your face. Young girls all look the same.”

“Oh, but I’m afraid your little lady won’t like hearing that!”

Justin shrugged. “It’s the truth. And those who look different I’ve already sketched.”

“Let’s see,” the woman motioned, suddenly focused and intense. “Let’s see whether you’re any good.”

Justin brought out his sketch-book, and shuffled through it until he found the sketch he had done of Daphne. He knew it was a picture he’d want on the wall, if he ever settled anywhere.

The woman took it carefully, and angled it toward the light, studying it attentively.

“Yes, yes. Done in a bit of a hurry, wasn’t it? She wasn’t sitting for you, was she? Then again, you can’t sit in any one position for long when you’re pregnant, I remember that. What a pain it is! But you’re right, that’s a face like no other. What is she, your sister?”

“She might be my little lady,” Justin smiled.

“Ah no, my boy. That’s the eye of understanding, not the eye of love. I know the difference, believe you me.”

“And how do you know she’s pregnant?”

“That look, my boy. That look. A woman recognizes it. Always.”

“She’s my friend. My oldest friend. We played in the proverbial sandbox together.”

The woman nodded and motioned for him to come into the back. “Have a seat, and show me the rest. I’m Marjorie, by the way.”

“Justin, Justin Taylor.”

“Are you, really? I saw one of your paintings… let me think. Where was it? Yes, I remember. At the emerging artist’s exhibition, about 18 months ago.”

“You remember that?”

Marjorie nodded. “I certainly do. All that frustration, the anger and the pain… you don’t forget that easily, especially when you’re my age.” She laughed again.

Justin hesitated for a moment, then handed the sketch-book over. It wasn’t in order anymore, because he had had to take sheets out when he Xeroxed them.

Marjorie took it reverently, and looked at the pictures, taking a flatteringly long time over each one.

She finally came to a sketch of Brian, just a portrait that he had done to get the feel for this new Brian, the Brian he thought he knew but didn’t understand.

“So it’s not a little lady,” Marjorie said, amused. “It’s a man. A big man. A man who fills the room, a man who has captured your heart and your mind, and you’re still fighting him.”

It was too much. “How do you get all that, from looking at one portrait?”

Marjorie shrugged. “I spent my life looking at art, and at people. Your drawing fills the page, that tells me he needs space. You have enhanced his best features, those beautiful eyes, thick lashes and luscious lips; it's very subtle, but it’s there. That tells me you’re in love. The way he looks back at you, you know he feels the same. But those eyes are sad, and hiding their pain. You’re not his to hold.”

Justin let out his breath. “Fuck, you’re good.”

“Language, young man,” Marjorie said, only half joking. “I’m old enough to appreciate manners.”

She got to her feet. “I’ll take them all, on commission. I’m sure they’ll sell, so don’t worry too much about making the rent. Come back in a week, and you can probably collect your first check.”

Justin jumped up, laughing. “I actually came in here to have a picture framed. I’m not sure those are for sale.”

“What, are you going to eat them? You need to part with some of your work, in order to continue working. I know it’s a wrench, but there it is. Give me the one you want framed, and then go through the rest. Keep only what you really can’t let go.”

Justin sighed. She was right. And it would give him a reason to come back here. Maybe he could get her to model for him, if he persisted. He gave her the picture he had done for Gus.

“It looks like a comic strip,” Marjorie commented. “It’s so guileless, it almost looks like you did it for a child.”

“It’s from a comic, and I did it for a little boy,” Justin said. “You’re too perceptive.”

Marjorie shrugged. “It runs in the family. I connect to emotion. My son can see some of the future.”

“Some of the future?”

“What do you think the future is, written in stone? A step here, a breath there and fate changes course. Even so, he is often right. For instance, he called earlier to say I’d have a very good day. And wasn’t he right!?”

Justin smiled. “Well, if I helped make it into a good day, I’m glad.”

“You did, Justin, you did. Now, what kind of frame do you want?”

“Something modern, something simple.”

“Tut. I can see that for myself, you young upstart. I meant, color-wise. To go with the room you want it in.”

“Oh,” Justin felt the blush creep into his cheeks and cursed his fair coloring, as he had done so often before. “Um, I don’t know. Probably chrome, or something like that.”

Marjorie shook her head. “Pencil drawings can’t afford the glare. Pay attention to such details, sometimes they are what sells a piece of art. I’d suggest a dull gray, if it’ll go with the furniture. Otherwise black.”

Justin tried to recall the frames of the drawings Brian had in the living room, but couldn’t. Which just proved that Brian had it licked. All you remembered was the art, not the frame.

“Gray, please,” Justin decided, and went back to sorting through his sketches. He grinned to himself when he realized that it was actually a good job that he carted all his stuff around with him.

He ended up only keeping the portraits of Daphne and his mother, and all the sketches of Brian. It was a rather thick wad of paper he handed over to Marjorie.

Marjorie smiled, clearly delighted. “There’s a good boy. You know there are more where those came from. Now, I want you to leave me that portrait of your lover. Not to sell, of course, just to advertise you.”

“Brian is going to love that. If he sees the picture here, he’ll kill me.”

“You have to take a little risk for your art,” Marjorie chortled. “He loves you, he’ll understand.”

Justin hesitated. Then again, Brian really would understand. Advertising was second nature to him, after all.

“Don’t sell it by mistake,” he warned, reluctantly giving Marjorie the portrait.

“I’d do no such thing,” she said sternly. “Besides, I rather like looking at him myself. My, what a handsome devil he is. What color are those eyes of his?”

“Hazel,” Justin said. “Some gray, some coffee, with quite a bit of green, and a few golden flecks.” 

Marjorie smiled. “You spend a lot of time looking into those eyes. Don’t make things more difficult for yourself. Buy him something now, you can afford it. Something… romantic.”

“He’ll laugh his head off,” Justin said, paying for the frame with Brian’s AE card.

“He will not,” Marjorie said adamantly. “Trust me. And remember to come back next week.”

“I will,” Justin smiled. “Please think about sitting for me?”

“I’ll think about it,” Marjorie laughed. “No promises, though!”

Justin opened the door, wondering what to get Brian.

As though she had read the thought, Marjorie said, “There’s a florist next door down. Go give my friend some business!”

Justin turned and smiled. “You know what, I think I will.”

 

The bells above the door gave a merry little jingle when he pushed it open, and he heard a woman’s voice say, “Some sunshine today, then, Marjorie? That’s nice, very nice. I think I have a customer. Talk to you later!”

The bustling woman that came to the front of the shop could have been Marjorie’s sister. She reminded him of a plump pigeon, where Marjorie had reminded him of a sparrow. But they had the same bird-like quality, inquisitive and quick on their feet.

Justin smiled.

“So, what will it be? Red roses for your sweetheart?”

Justin shook his head, laughing. “My sweetheart is a man. I think he’d laugh me out of town if I took him roses. I need something different.”

“Different, huh? What’s he like, your man?”

“Erm, gorgeous? But that’s not what you’re asking, is it?”

“Information like that is nice to have,” the woman smiled. “But if you didn't think he was gorgeous, you’d not take him flowers in the first place. What’s the first word that comes to mind when somebody asks you to describe his character?”

“Extravagant,” Justin said instantly. “In a nice way.”

The woman smiled. “So, traditional flowers won’t do, he really would laugh at those, wouldn’t he? But I think I have just the thing for you. I’ll go arrange them. You wait here, I want you to see the finish, not the race.”

Softly chuckling to herself, the woman vanished into the back again. 

Justin stepped behind a display of large tropical plants; he didn't want Brian or the kids to see him in here. He dug in his bag for his allergy meds and swallowed two of the small pills dry. Jim’s voice echoed in his head, telling him to always take pills with water. Sorry Jim, I don’t fancy drinking the stuff the flowers are standing in. That wouldn’t be good for my allergies at all. He grinned to himself.

It wasn't long before the shopkeeper returned. She held the spray into the light streaming through the large windows, and Justin caught his breath.

“My god, that's Brian in flowers,” he said. “Stunning. I just hope I can afford it.”

The woman smiled. “I’ll make you a good price. Nobody else would buy these. Most women think they’re for old ladies. But I feel they’re just right for a ritzy man.”

“They are. They are perfect for Brian.”

“Do you want me to wrap them?”

“No, thanks. I’ll take them as they are. Something that beautiful shouldn’t be hidden away, even for a moment.”

Justin paid and returned to the car, happy enough to skip a few steps.


	11. Eleven

Brian was already there with the kids. The children were sitting in the back, and Brian was talking to them through the open door.

Justin approached quietly, and put his bag on the hood next to the windscreen, the flowers behind it, hidden from view.

“Here’s your picture, Gus.” 

He held out the picture, and Gus beamed.

“It looks even better like this. Thank you, Justin! And Daddy,” he added as an afterthought.

Justin gave the AE card and the cash back to Brian. “The shop takes credit cards,” he explained.

Brian waved the cash away. “Keep it.”

Justin shook his head. “No.”

Brian rolled his eyes, but Justin just stared back, keeping his face as expressionless as possible. This one he could win, he knew that.

In the end, Brian shrugged and negligently pocketed the money. He reached into a bag. “Here, Justin, these are for you.”

“Thanks,” Justin looked, and swallowed. Champagne truffles. For a man who refused to remember names, Brian remembered way too much.

He moved to put them into his bag, and retrieved the flowers. 

Suddenly, he felt awfully insecure. What had made him give in to the whimsical folly of an old lady he hardly even knew? Moments ago, he had been so certain that this was actually a good idea, and now he felt his heart speed up at the thought that Brian would be angry. Or worse, laugh at him.

Brian had gone back to the kids, helping Gus put the picture away safely.

“Brian?” Christ, even his voice shook. “I got these for you.”

Brian turned, and Justin held out the flowers. The sun shone on each tiny little bloom, and the flowers were translucent with light. Instead of being attached to stems and leaves, they seemed to hover above them in a swirl of light and color.

After a long moment, Justin finally risked taking his eyes off the flowers to look up at Brian.

Brian wasn’t looking at him; he was staring at the flowers Justin was still holding. His face gave nothing away, and Justin remembered that Brian had long years of practice hiding his first reactions. But his pupils had widened, just that little bit. Finally, he reached out to take the spray off Justin, their fingers brushing.

Brian swallowed, opening his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again. After another moment of silence, he finally looked up, straight into Justin’s eyes. “They are… dazzling. Thank you, Justin.”

Brian's voice was warm; and Justin smiled. Brian really did like the flowers!

Brian took the bag off the hood and put it in front of JR, but he kept the flowers with him in the front seat.

They drove home in easy silence, listening to another CD with disco music, the kids sitting contentedly in the back, too tired to talk much.

Looking over, Justin caught Brian thoughtfully tracing one of the delicate blooms with the tip of a finger, a tender caress. Oh yes, that had been one good idea.

 

Judson stood in the open window with Shane, watching the Jeep pull into the driveway.

Brian and Justin got out and helped the children out of the car.

“New clothes, new haircut,” Judson said. “I was wondering how long that would take.”

Shane grinned. “You know Brian. He likes everything spick and span.”

They heard Brian tell the kids that he’d take their stuff up to their room, and the children nodded and ran around the back. Brian and Justin met at the back of the car, taking out several bags.

Brian said something they couldn’t catch, and Justin looked at him with that bright, unguarded smile he had around Brian.

Brian said something else, and this time they heard, “What got into you?”

Justin laughed, took a step forward and threw his arms around Brian. “You did, what else.”

Brian shook his head, but hugged back, bags and all, pulling Justin even closer.

Judson sighed, and Shane shot him a quick glance. “What?”

“That.” Judson shrugged. “It’s something we never had. And now we never will.”

“He hugs you,” Shane replied, puzzled. “A lot.”

“Not like that, he doesn’t. It’s so… familiar. Unpretentious. Easy.”

Shane sighed. “Don’t give up on him, just yet.”

“Let’s go back outside, I don’t want him to think we’re keeping tabs on him.”

“He knows we are,” Shane said, but followed Judson back to the pool.

 

“I see you met Edward Scissorhands, the hairdresser from hell,” Daphne grinned.

“Stephen,” Justin grimaced. “Yeah. Quite an experience.”

“He’s something else,” Jennifer laughed. “Nice haircut, though. You look great.”

She was right, Shane realized. Justin did look great. He cleaned up rather nicely, and now it was a bit easier to see what Brian saw in him.

“Thanks,” Justin grinned. “Have you seen the kids? Doesn’t JR look adorable?”

“Yes, she does,” Jennifer smiled. “And Gus looks just like a miniature version of Brian!”

“Yeah,” Melanie said. “And I have to look at him all the time when we get back home. I bet Brian did that on purpose.”

Gus shook his head. “Daddy had his nails done while we had our hair cut. I told Janice I want to look like my dad.”

“Brian is so vain, it’s unbelievable.” Melanie sighed. “At least JR looks cute.”

Ben glared at her. “Does that take a lot of training, or does it come naturally?”

“What,” Melanie asked. “What are you on about?”

“Whatever one says about Brian, you turn it around to say something malicious.”

“Leave it, Ben.” Michael said. “They never got along.”

“Yet, Brian manages to get along without saying mean things to Melanie, or about her,” Dave replied.

“He just drives me nuts,” Melanie said defensively.

“By doing what,” Ben asked, “Breathing?”

“Mel. You promised.” 

Lindsay looked like she was about to cry, Shane thought.

Melanie stared at her angrily. “Promises get broken. All the time.”

“Daddy doesn't break his,” Gus said with certainty.

Melanie laughed, it sounded bitter. “Ask Justin about that, why don’t you?”

Justin sighed. “Gus is right. Brian doesn’t break a promise.”

“You never got to go to Vermont together, though, did you,” Lindsay said softly.

Eyebrows on the rise, Justin looked astonished. Then he smiled, widely. “Brian never told you, did he? We went to Aspen instead, for two weeks, just before he opened Kinnetik.”

Shane remembered that. He had told Brian that he was crazy, that he didn't have the time, or the money, really. But Brian had been adamant, and wouldn't budge. In the end, Shane had come to Pittsburgh to mind the store while Brian went gallivanting with his twinkie. And had come back all smiles and in a delightful mood. If Justin’s smile was anything to go by, he also had fond memories of that trip.

“All of a sudden, he's Brian Saint Kinney, is that it?”

Watching Gus and seeing the corners of his mouth go down, Shane felt it was time to step in. “Stop that, right now. This isn’t about Brian at all, it’s about you, Lindsay, Melanie. I suggest you sort it out, and leave Brian out of it.”

“And who the fuck do you think you are?” Lindsay shot back. “His white knight?”

“I am whatever Brian wants me to be, or whatever he needs me to be,” Shane said far more calmly than he felt. What was it with these people, bringing their petty little problems to Brian’s home?

Leda touched his arm, gently. “Right now, Brian wants you upstairs. The studio.”

Shane glared at Lindsay and Melanie for a moment longer, then shook his head and went to find Brian.

 

Shane knocked on the door once, then twice in rapid succession. Their old signal.

“Door’s open,” Brian said. “Come in.”

The first thing Shane noticed was the bright spray of orchids on the table. They spilled out of a simple glass vase, radiating with the sunlight streaming through the open window. A whirlpool of colors; white, yellow, pink, purple and wine, set off by dark green leaves and a few silver shoots. 

Shane swallowed. If you could transform Brian into flowers, this would be the outcome. Extravagant, striking, vibrant - and so easily crushed.

“Bought these for yourself,” he asked, already certain of the answer.

“No,” Brian said.

Uh-oh. Back to monosyllables.

“Who’s preposterous enough to buy you flowers?”

Brian stepped back from the picture he had hung. “I need you to help me adjust the lights.”

“Anybody else ever give you flowers before?”

“No.” Brian had crossed his arms, and the implications weren’t lost on Shane.

“Boy toy has lost the rest of his good sense, has he?”

“Lights, Shane. I want the middle spotlight on this picture.”

Sighing, Shane stretched and moved the ceiling light to where Brian wanted it. “Is that it?”

Brian flipped the light-switch. “A bit more to the left.”

Shane complied. “Better?”

“Yes, that’s it. Thanks.”

“You didn’t need me for this, you know.”

“I know. I wanted you around, but I’ve changed my mind. Go away.” Brian switched off the lights and turned from him.

Shane ignored him, fully aware that it would annoy Brian. He turned the lights back on and stood in front of the picture, looking at it carefully. Finally, he ventured, “Either Justin is mad, or you are.”

“Get out,” Brian said patiently, still staring out of the window.

“Or what? You’ll break my arm?”

“Your neck, more like,” Brian said, his voice slightly more irritable.

“Brian. Why the flowers?”

“Damned if I know.”

“Didn't you ask?”

“No.”

“Christ, Brian. You’ve no sense whatsoever. What possesses you to hang that fucking picture?”

Brian shrugged. “Gus wanted it.”

“Right. You gonna take it down when Gus has left?” 

Of course he wouldn’t, Shane knew. If Brain had had any intention of taking the damn thing down, he wouldn’t have bothered about the lights.

“Mind your own fucking business, why don’t you.” Brian sounded exhausted.

“I’m minding you. First the fucking Harpers downstairs, now this. What are you trying to do, create your own private inferno?”

“Nothing left to create. I’m just not done furnishing it.”

“Jesus bloody fucking Christ, Brian.”

“You’re going to hell,” Brian said in the sing-song voice of his mother. It was a good imitation. Good enough to send shivers down Shane’s spine.

Shane frowned. “What are you on?”

Brian shrugged again. “Nothing. I could do with some E, but I’m being a good boy for Jim.”

“Does that mean you actually want the chemo to work?”

“Sure I do.”

“What's this, Brian? Boy toy comes back and suddenly, life is worth living?”

“You don’t know fuck,” Brian said roughly.

“I know, Brian. I know it all.”

“Please share. Don’t let my unmitigated indifference stop you.”

Shane sighed, and stood behind Brian, close, but not touching. “That look is back.”

Brian didn’t respond.

“He’s hurting you. Always has. Why do you take him back all the time?”

“Because.”

Shane placed his hands on Brian’s shoulders. Brian stiffened, but didn’t move away. 

“Because what, Brian?”

“How often, Shane? Because I can’t stop loving him.”

“If he died, would you get over him?”

“That does it,” Brian whirled, pushing him away violently. “Out,” he yelled, eyes flashing. “Get the fuck out!”

Pure fury. Shane had seen that once or twice before, and knew that Brian was liable to get physically violent when he was this livid. He raised his hands in supplication.

“Cool it, Bri. I didn’t mean what you think I did.”

Brian's eyes narrowed dangerously. “And how the fuck do you know what I’m thinking?”

“Years and years of friendship,” Shane said calmly. “Come on, you know me better than that.”

“Your next question. What would that have been?” Brian was trying to control his breathing, Shane knew.

“Whether he’d get over you.”

Shane knew the question was cruel, but he wasn’t prepared for seeing Brian’s eyes fill with tears. Brian moved away from him. 

“Leave. Me. Alone.” Brian's voice had gone from infuriated to icy, and Shane sighed.

“Fine. Go back to the Brian Kinney avoid-the-issue act.” He went out and slammed the door behind him.

 

Brian sighed.

Shane was right. 

He didn’t know how to get over Justin. 

The time Justin had spent in New York without so much as a word seemed to indicate that Justin was just fine without him.

Yet, he felt he knew better. 

Justin didn't look happy. He had lost weight. He hadn’t done much painting in the last eight months. Why the fuck hadn't he written? Why the fuck wasn’t he explaining himself now? He had always talked a mile a minute, and now he was quiet and restrained. Justin had lots of questions, but he didn’t offer any answers. Why was that?

Those flowers… fuck. Those weren’t flowers. That was a declaration.

Who needed words, when their heart understood?

Right, Kinney. Get over it. That’s a ridiculously romantic notion.

Brian looked at the bouquet and smiled.

 

“That wasn’t nice,” Gus said quietly. Shane stopped short. Great. Justin and Gus were sitting on the stairs together.

“How much did you guys hear,” Shane wanted to know.

“The place is pretty sound-proof,” Justin said coolly. “Just Brian yelling at you to get out.”

“And you didn’t,” Gus said accusingly. He got up. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Shane watched as Gus boldly opened the door to the studio without even knocking.

“I wonder whether he knows that’s a privilege,” Shane muttered, more to himself than Justin.

“I gather he knows Brian rather well,” Justin said. “Probably better than any adult.”

“What's with the flowers, Justin?”

Justin shrugged. “Ridiculously romantic, I know.”

“Why now? Why not before?”

“Because.”

“Because what?”

“Christ, Shane. Don’t you ever back off?” Justin sighed. “Because I realized that I expected things from Brian I wasn’t prepared to do myself. It never even occurred to me to do them. I need him to know that’s changed.”

“So you breeze in here and steal him from Judson?”

“Brian Kinney can’t be stolen, you should know that. If he leaves, it’s because he wants to.”

“And you’re going to make him want to, right?”

So that was it. 

Jim had said that all of Brian's friends had a hidden agenda. And this here was Shane’s. 

Justin took a deep breath. “And there’s me thinking this is all about Brian. You’re in love with Judson.”

Before Shane could react, the door behind them opened and Gus stuck his head out. “Come in, Justin.”

Justin got up and brushed past Shane, then stopped and turned around. “Maybe that’s exactly what you’re hoping for. Not ready for a little guilt to tarnish your shiny armor?”

Shane opened his mouth to reply, but Justin had already closed the door again.

 

“Hey,” Justin said, unsure whether he was really wanted here, right now.

“Hey yourself,” Brian said calmly, his back to them.

“Look, Justin, Daddy hung your picture!” Gus said proudly. “It’s great, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it sure is.” Justin took a quick look around the room. The studio was large and bright, with two huge windows, and three skylights. This was a painter’s dream. There were two easels - Soltek, by the look of them - one of them with the trays out and covered with a large white cloth; both stood directly under a skylight. 

At the far wall, there was a row of built-in cupboards, all the doors but one shut. Brian took out a pad and a box of crayons, and closed the door again.

“Here you go, Gus.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” Gus said, smiling happily, and told Justin, “I’m going to draw something myself now. I’m not as good as you, or as good as Daddy. I need to practice.”

Justin grinned. “I wasn’t very good when I was your age. Practice does it!”

Gus nodded. “I’m going downstairs, Daddy. Do you want me to lock the door?”

“Go ahead, Gus, thanks.”

“Don’t forget to ask Justin!” Gus left, and Justin heard the lock snap shut.

“He just locked us in,” he said, surprised. Was this the door Gus had meant?

Brian grinned at him. “So?”

Justin shrugged. “Nothing. Ask me what?”

Brian pointed at the orchids. “He's fallen in love with the colors, and a photo won’t do. Gus wants me to commission you to paint them for him.”

“I’ll do it for free,” Justin said.

Brian snorted. “I thought you wanted to make a living as an artist?”

Justin grinned. “The little old lady who sold me that frame offered to take some of my drawings on consignment.”

Brian looked at him, tilting his head. He didn't say anything, but after a moment, he began to smile. He shook his head.

“What?”

Brian’s smile widened. “You’re cute.”

Justin frowned. “Yeah, right. When you say cute, you mean gullible.”

“You are, a bit,” Brian stated.

“Thanks a lot. Why do you say that?”

Brian smirked. “You never asked the little old lady how much you’d make.”

Fuck. Brian was right. It hadn’t even occurred to him.

“She said I needn’t worry about the rent,” he said, aware that it sounded rather lame.

Brian bit his lip, and Justin knew he was doing his best not to laugh outright. “We'll take her word for that, shall we. Still interested in those computer graphics?”

“Sure,” Justin said, happy to get into safer waters.

Brian sat behind his desk, and Justin took a moment to admire the three large liquid computer monitors attached to the row of PCs underneath the desk.

Brian took a notebook out of a drawer. “When’s the last time you worked with the computer?”

Justin sighed. “A while ago.”

Brian shrugged, took an external hard-drive and a light-pen out of a cupboard behind the desk and swiftly set up the whole thing. Brian always looked like he knew what he was doing. Then again, he usually did know.

“Okay, let’s see how much you remember. Change the shapes, as often as you can.”

Justin sat down next to Brian and went to work, startled at how difficult it was. Brian had made it sound easy. Not the notebook’s fault, that was state of the art, and so was the software. It was his deficiency. Try as he might, he couldn't do anything with the last picture. He was becoming frustrated, and Brian’s silent scrutiny didn't exactly make him feel better, either.

After a while, Brian said softly, “Don’t be stubborn, Justin. Admit you can’t do it.”

Justin leaned back, sighing. “Fuck. I should be able to do it. I know I did something like that at PIFA.”

“When did you sell your computer?”

Yes, well. He had known Brian was going to ask. That didn't mean he wanted to tell him, though.

Brian swiveled his chair, facing him. “Justin. Look at me.”

Reluctantly, Justin followed suit.

Brian raised his eyebrow. “So. When?”

Justin sighed. If Brian wanted to get something out of him, he would. “A couple of months ago.”

Brian nodded. “Why?”

Justin sighed again. “It was either that, or go without the root canal I needed.”

Brian was silent for a while, and Justin had the distinct feeling he was giving himself time to cool off. He remembered those drawn-out silences, when time seemed to slow down to a snail’s pace, and Brian's movements seemed even more deliberate than normal. Now what? Why was Brian pissed at him – again?

“Did you read the letter?”

The letter. The one that had been too hot to touch for the last fourteen months? The one he had found on the plane to New York, tucked into his jacket? No. He hadn’t read it. He was too scared. It was burning a hole into the back-pocket of his jeans, right now.

Mutely, Justin shook his head.

“Asshole,” Brian said, heartfelt.

Justin nodded, another sigh escaping him.

“You’re pathetic,” Brian scoffed. “What did you think, that it was a love-letter?”

Actually, yes, that was exactly what he had thought. And he had known that one word, just one little word would have brought him back to Pittsburgh on the next plane. Which was idiotic, because now he was here even without that word. Life was a pain in the ass.

Brian studied his face for a moment longer, then got up with a sigh. He retrieved a stack of books from a shelf.

“Here, you’ll need these. Basic training manuals. Work through them, don’t go skipping lessons. Pay close attention to working with layers. You need all the information in your head, otherwise manipulation becomes tedious.”

Justin wondered what good the books would do without a computer.

Brian rolled his eyes. “If you're thinking what I think you’re thinking, I’m going to hit you with these books. Every single one of them.”

“What do you think I’m thinking,” Justin wondered.

Brian took a few steps closer, and Justin was reminded that Brian's size alone often made him appear intimidating. If his face was unreadable like this, and he loomed over you just so… it could make you nervous. Quite nervous, actually.

“You’re thinking the books aren’t going to be very helpful without access to a computer.”

Justin leaned away from Brian. “Something like that,” he admitted unwillingly.

“Christ, Justin!” Brian dropped the books on the table; the sudden bang made Justin jump. 

Brian gestured at the notebook, “You take this. The internal hard-drive has 250 GB, so you can work with the notebook alone, but you’ll need the external to store your work. Remember to burn to DVD once a week or so. There’s a PC with Internet and TV-connection at the apartment. I’ll take you there on Monday.”

“Brian…” Justin hesitated. What to say?

Brian grimaced. “Don’t start. I always fancied myself a patron of the arts. How long will it take you to work through these?”

Justin eyed the books with some apprehension. “At least a month, I guess. I learn better when somebody shows me what to do.”

“I know,” Brian sighed. “I’m leaving Pittsburgh next Tuesday, and I won’t be back for several weeks. I’ll work with you, if you want me to. But I’m not going to babysit you through the beginner’s levels.”

“Where are you going?”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Away.”

Justin grinned. He hadn’t expected an answer, not really. He pointed at the flowers. “When do you want me to start on these?” 

“Before they wilt, genius,” Brian said. “What are you going to use, oils?”

Justin shook his head. “Oil is too dense. I can’t use watercolors, they’re too soft. I think I’d go for temperas, or acrylics.”

Brian gestured at the row of closets at the end of the room. “Knock yourself out. Portable easel and such are in the closet on the far right.”

Justin jumped up and went to investigate. Opening the first cabinet, he took a deep breath. Yeah. Portable easel. Another Soltek. Only the Rolls Royce of easels. Two black Outdoor backpacks. Portable table for your utensils. Several smocks. Of course, Brian didn’t want paint on his designer jeans. Justin smirked.

Open the second door. Damn. This made him itch to get to work. Tubes upon tubes of various kinds of paints, neatly arranged. New brushes, old brushes – all of them perfectly clean, dry and ready for use. He didn't always treat his own equipment this well.

The next cupboard held more supplies; there were several clean towels and cloths, and a number of cleaning agents, both for brushes and paints. In the fourth closet, he found stacks of papers and canvas, arranged by size and quality. Then there was the closet with charcoals, colored pencils, conte sticks, pastels and crayons. The bottom shelf clearly intended for the kids, with lots of bright colors, thick pads and a huge selection of coloring books.

Next, a large sink and shelves for bits and pieces – water containers, wooden and polypropylene palettes and palette-knives in various sizes.

“Wow, Brian. You’ve got everything you could want,” Justin said, delighted.

“No,” Brian said, almost inaudibly. “I don’t.”

Justin turned, and their eyes met. 

Held. 

For interminable seconds. 

Brian had never meant to say that out loud, Justin knew.

“The photo-lab is in the basement, it’s a pain in the ass. I’m giving serious consideration to installing an elevator.”

Oh yes. The quick Kinney cover-up. If you didn't know him very well, you never caught on. It had taken him about three years to see through it. 

Justin cleared his throat. “I thought you were using a digital camera.”

“For work, yes. But not for my private photography.”

“When did you learn to develop your own photos,” Justin asked.

Brian shrugged. “High-school. Extra-curricular activity.”

Grabbing the easel and carrying it over to the window, Justin said, “Sounds like you took part in lots of activities. Didn’t you ever spend any time at home?”

“Not if I could avoid it, no.” Brian leaned over to switch off the computer, then opened a drawer and took something out of it. Justin couldn’t see what it was; he was too busy struggling with the easel.

Brian helped him it set up, which wasn’t as easy as Justin had thought it would be. The damn thing had more controls than a spaceship.

“Working from this window, the light will go in about an hour. I’ll delay lunch until then. Here’s the key, you can keep it. I don’t want anybody else in here, so lock up after you.”

“Where are you going,” Justin asked, disappointed. He had hoped Brian would hang around. That would’ve been cozy.

Brian raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ve a house full of guests, or had you forgotten? I can’t dump them on Judson all the time.”

“Shame,” Justin grinned.

Brian left, and Justin heard the lock click. He’d have to ask Gus who else had a key to this room.

Justin judged the light filtering through the window and realized that Brian was right. An hour of good light left, if that. He decided to just set up the canvas and arrange the materials he would need. Maybe he’d have time to sketch the outline, but there was no point in starting to paint, acrylics dried too fast. Besides, he wanted to capture the sweet freshness of the orchids, and he knew he could do that best if he painted them in one go. 

Something new to start tomorrow, and he was really looking forward to it. He hadn't worked with such first-rate paints in ages.

 

Shane leaned against the wood paneling of the wall and watched as Brian locked the door from the outside, trying to read his body language. Exhausted, by the set of his shoulders. Brian's shoulders never slumped, because Brian was too self-aware. Even when under the influence, there was always the iron self-control. A control most people never even knew was there. But still… Shane knew the difference. Not physically worn out, that rarely happened. Emotionally exhausted. Beat by a kid in his mid-twenties who had no heart.

“Brian,” he ventured softly.

“Back so soon,” Brian said sarcastically.

“What’s he doing in there?”

“Earning a living.”

“Doing what,” Shane persisted, against better judgement.

Brian stood in front of him, legs apart, and hands at his sides. Ready to take a swing, Shane realized. He’d seen that stance before. Shit.

“Want to ask again,” Brian threatened softly.

“I only meant…”

“I don’t give a shit, Shane. Stay the fuck out of it, and stay away from Justin.” Brian turned on his heel and was down the stairs before Shane had even regained his breath.

“Judson doesn’t need protection,” Leda said. “Brian won’t hurt him.”

Shane jumped. He hadn’t even known she was there until she spoke. Damn, the woman moved like a cat. If she were a guy…

Leda chuckled. “Don't look at me that way. I’m only doing it with one man, and you’re not him.”

“So who is he,” Shane shot back.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Leda said, amused. “From what I’ve seen, Justin and Brian together are a force of nature. Like a volcanic eruption, or a tsunami. You get too close, you get injured.”

Leda reached out and took his arm. “Come on, partner, buy me a drink.”

Shane went along, wondering at Leda’s imagery. Volcanic eruption, indeed.

 

Judson watched as Brian walked toward them, speculating at the furious flashes in the hazel depths. Who had ticked off Brian? Justin?

Brian pulled him close, brushing a gentle kiss across his lips. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Judson said, smiling. Brian always brought a smile to his face.

“So, Brian, what have you done with Justin? Fucked him so hard he needs to recuperate?”

Feeling Brian stiffen, Judson frowned. 

Ted was a good accountant, but he resented having to put up with him in their spare time. Where Brian was blunt, Ted was thoughtless.

“Mind your language around the kids,” Brian said in a bored tone.

“What, you spent all that money on him, and you got nothing out of it?”

“It’s probably a long-term investment,” Melanie snorted. “It’ll pay off; Brian’s got good business sense.”

Judson flinched, wondering what he could say to stop this.

Lindsay shook her head at Melanie, got up and hugged Brian. “Thanks for all that stuff you bought Gus! He’s so pleased!”

“He’s my kid too, remember,” Brian squeezed back, and Judson saw the difference to how he hugged Justin. Brian put just one arm around Lindsay’s back, briefly, then let go again and took a step back. When he embraced Justin, he clasped him close, and he seemed rather reluctant to let go. 

“But JR isn’t yours, she’s Michael’s,” Debbie said. “You shouldn’t have frittered so much!”

“She’s my boy’s sister,” Brian said. “And she’s fun to shop for.”

Judson wondered how Debbie knew that Brian had spent a lot. And admired Brian for not saying that Michael never spent any money on his little girl.

“Hell, Debbie, he ship-shaped all his kids today,” Ted said. “What's next on the agenda, Brian?”

Judson watched Blake and Calvin shake their heads, sharing a look.

“Torturing,” Brian said, in too saccharine a tone. “You’re volunteering.”

“Only if sex is involved,” Ted laughed.

“I’d as soon cut off my dick,” Brian wrinkled his nose, looking disgusted.

“Brian!” Melanie protested.

Ted said, “I forget, I’m not your type. You like blondes.”

“I like them hot, and you are not.” Brian sounded indifferent.

For once, Ted didn't seem to have a come-back, he actually looked hurt.

Behind his back, Blake winked at Brian, grinning.

“I seem to remember…” Emmett said slowly.

Calvin clamped a hand over his mouth. “Stay out of it.”

Emmett rolled his eyes. “Okay,” he muttered.

 

Shane and Leda came out of the house and joined them, both of them looking at Brian, then frowning. 

Here comes the cavalry, Judson thought, and suppressed a grin.

Leda let go of Shane and draped an arm around Brian's waist. “I missed you. Had a good morning?”

Brian smiled at her. “A very good morning, thanks.”

“And all without fucking anybody,” Ted said spitefully.

“Who said he didn’t fuck? He only said he didn't do Justin,” Melanie taunted. “He’s probably had his dick up the clerk’s ass.”

“Christ,” Brian exhaled. “Will you remember the kids, you assholes?”

Gus shrugged. “It’s okay, Daddy. We’ve heard worse.”

“You’ve heard worse?” Brian raised his eyebrows at his son. “Where?”

“When they talk about Sam,” Gus said calmly.

One look at Brian’s face convinced Judson that he knew who Sam was.

“Sam? Who’s Sam?” Michael asked.

“A blast from the past,” Melanie said crossly. “None of your goddamn fucking business, Michael.”

“Sam, huh?” Brian said, giving first Melanie a very hard stare, then frowning at Lindsay.

“Do you know who he is?” Michael asked apprehensively.

Brian raised an eyebrow at Melanie. “Do I?”

“Don’t have a go at me,” Melanie said angrily. “Have a go at her, why don’t you?”

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to have a go at both of you. Why don't we take this to my office.”

Melanie frowned at him. “You can’t order me around like one of your lackeys.”

“I’m not ordering you,” Brian said evenly. “I’m asking. Nicely.”

And if you say no again, he won't ask. He’ll tell you. Judson smirked to himself. The checks he’s giving you gals are a long-term investment, too.

“Fine. I’ll talk to you. Alone. Without her.” Melanie jutted her chin in Lindsay’s direction.

Brian shrugged. “Whatever.”

“I’ll come with you,” Michael said.

“No, you won’t,” Brian said. “None of your business.”

“But JR is my kid,” Michael whined.

“Stay the fuck away from me,” Melanie spat. “Having your kid was the second biggest mistake of my life!”

Michael’s eyes opened wide. “How can you say that? She’s beautiful!”

“And what was the first mistake, missy?” Debbie asked at the same time, sounding murderous. “You have to take Michael, Brian.”

Brian sighed. “I don’t ‘have to’ anything, Debbie. This isn’t about you, or Michael. Let’s go, Mel.”

They vanished into the house, and Judson tried not to laugh at Debbie’s and Michael’s outraged expressions as they stared at one another, dumbfounded.

Leda and Shane joined him at the bar. Leda smiled at him and asked quietly, “Not having a go at Brian, are you, Judson?”

Judson shook his head. “I’ve no reason. As long as Brian comes home with a smile, I’ll stay out of it.”

Shane snorted. “You’re awfully generous, all of a sudden.”

“I’m only human,” Judson grinned. “I do have my jealous moments. I seem to get over them faster than you do, though.”

Leda grinned knowingly. 

 

Jim sat down next to Gus. “Hey Gus. Does it bother you if I sit here?”

Gus looked up and beamed at him. “Hey Jimmy. You don't bother me, ever. Look, I’m trying to draw a horse. But I can’t get it right.”

Jim bent over the pad Gus held out. “Well, I can see it looks more like a dog than a horse, but I have no idea how to fix that. Why don't you ask your mom?”

“I can’t draw horses for the life of me,” Lindsay said. “Ask Justin, I’m sure he can help.”

“Just draw something else,” Michael suggested unsympathetically.

“I want to learn how to draw a horse,” Gus said, rolling his eyes. “Drawing something else won’t help.”

“Learn how to draw something else first, and then go back to the horse,” Michael shrugged.

“You don’t understand,” Gus sighed.

“Hell, don’t make such a big fuss about it,” Michael said impatiently. “Kids are supposed to be seen, not heard all the fucking time.”

“Don’t you listen to him, Gus. You’re not making a fuss at all. And Michael, don’t let Brian hear you say that to his kid,” Jim warned pleasantly.

“Brian is the same,” Lindsay said. “I remember in college, some stuff everybody just gave up on, but Brian kept at it until he got it right.”

Shane laughed. “Which is why Bri graduated summa cum laude, and everybody else didn’t.”

“True,” Lindsay grinned. “But everybody else had a much easier time of it!”

“Brian would probably tell you that you're not in college to have fun,” Molly smirked.

Lindsay shook her head. “Brian had fun. Lots of it.”

“Yeah, but that was his way of rewarding himself for doing well,” Shane replied.

Judson watched Gus, whose eyes went from one speaker to the next, perhaps committing the information to memory so he could quiz Brian later.

Molly shrugged. “Having the right incentive is important.”

Debbie rolled her eyes at her. “You spend too much time with Brian. You’re beginning to sound like him.”

“It could be worse,” Jennifer said coldly. “For instance, if she started to sound like Michael.”

“There’s nothing wrong with sounding like my Michael,” Debbie said furiously.

Jennifer shrugged. “I just want Molly to get a good education.”

“Well, you better keep her away from Brian then, because all the education your Justin got around him is how to be a great lay.”

“Oh, so not fair, Debbie,” Emmett said. “Brian always tried to get Justin to go back to PIFA. You remember that, guys, don’t you? They even had a bet riding on it once?”

“That’s true,” Ted said grudgingly. “I remember. Brian still paid for Justin’s tuition even when Justin was with that fiddler.”

“Yeah, mom, and it wasn’t Brian's fault I didn't want to stay in college,” Michael said. “He kept telling me to hang in there. You said I needn’t bother, I could always find a job even without having a degree.”

“And I was right, wasn’t I,” Debbie said, chomping her gum. “You own a thriving business now. I always knew you'd be a huge success one day.” She pinched Michael’s cheek, and Michael smiled at her. 

Judson shared a quick look with Shane. “Nowhere near as successful as Brian,” he murmured. Leda sniggered softly.

 

Justin came out of the house and joined them at the bar. Judson noticed he looked exhausted and tense. The kid was way too young to have bags under his eyes.

“Hey Justin. Want something to drink?”

“Can I have some guava juice, please,” Justin said, his voice slightly slurred.

“Sure. With or without ice?” Judson got out a clean glass.

“With ice, thanks.” Justin gulped down half the juice in one go, then finished the rest more slowly.

“Demanding work, Sunshine,” Shane asked, his tone friendly.

Judson shot him a sharp look. He knew Shane well enough to know that the tone of his voice was misleading.

Justin tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. Was he onto Shane already? “Not the work so much, no. Getting into the right frame of mind is a bit difficult.”

Sensing they were saying more than mere words, Judson decided to help out a little. “More juice, Justin?”

“Yes, please.”

Judson reached for more ice and made sure Shane felt the elbow he ‘accidentally’ shoved into his ribs. He handed the refilled glass back to Justin, watching him drink.

Keeping his voice low, he asked, “So. Did he eat, Justin?”

Justin smiled brightly. Sunshine indeed, Judson thought.

“One glass of water, two cups of coffee, four slices of tomatoes, six mushrooms, some baked beans, half of a fried egg and a few bites of bacon. A whole slice of toast with a little butter. One Latte, one soda, one iced coffee,” Justin rattled off in an undertone, and then took a deep breath. His smile widened. “Two large sundaes,” he added triumphantly.

“That much!” Judson felt his own smile widen in response. “Wow! Great! I could hug you!”

“Knock yourself out,” Justin grinned, putting his empty glass down.

Judson grabbed him and pulled him into a really strong bear-hug. 

Justin was rigid for a moment, then relaxed into his hold with a small laugh and hugged back.

“What’s that, the hug-if-you’ve-been-fucked-by-Brian-Kinney club?” Ted sounded grouchy.

“Just to keep you guessing,” Leda said sweetly and joined their embrace by slipping her arms around their waists.

Shane laughed, stood opposite Leda and put his arms around their shoulders.

Judson could feel Justin tense again.

“How about the Brian Kinney love and appreciation society,” Molly smiled and leaned into Justin's back.

Judson felt somebody warm and compact move against him.

“I’ll join,” Tucker said sincerely.

“Guys, I’m suffocating here,” Justin claimed, laughing. “Please let me out?”

Judson let go, smiling at Justin, who looked flushed. “I might come back for more.”

Justin grinned. “Sure. You do that. Anytime.”

“Make sure Brian doesn’t catch you,” Michael said maliciously. “He might rip up all of your drawings.”

“Or piss on them,” Debbie said.

“Brian expresses his irritation in an unconventional fashion,” Justin shrugged. “Jealous, Mikey? He never ripped up anything that you did, did he?”

“Of course not,” Michael sputtered. “He wouldn't.”

“Of course he wouldn’t,” Shane said calmly, driving Justin’s stake in deeper. “You’re not important enough.”

Michael flushed crimson. “I’m important. He’s been my best friend since High School.”


	12. Twelve

Gus approached Justin, pad and crayons held tightly. “Do you have time for me now, Justin?”

Justin smiled at the boy. “I have all the time you want, Gus.”

Judson grinned to himself. One point for Justin, zero points for Michael. Gus was bound to mention it to Brian.

“Take another glass,” Judson said, filling it quickly. “Talking to Gus is thirsty work!”

Justin laughed. “Thanks. Do you want a drink, Gus?”

Gus nodded. “Are we out of orange juice yet?”

Judson shook his head and poured juice over ice. “Your dad makes sure we never run out. He knows you love it.”

“You go ahead and sit down,” Justin said, pushing his messenger bag onto his back. 

Did he ever put that damn thing down? What could be so important that he didn't just leave it in his room, Judson wondered. 

“I’ll bring the glasses.”

Gus smiled at him. “Thanks, Justin.”

 

Justin was rather relieved that the boy had taken him away from the bar. He didn’t quite know how to handle Judson’s sincere kindness, and Shane’s ill-hidden hostility made him feel really uncomfortable. 

“Look, Justin. It’s supposed to be a horse. Only, it doesn't look like a horse.”

Justin nodded. “Animals are difficult. Sometimes it's easier to work from a really good photo until you get the hang of it. Can I have a look at your other drawings?”

“Sure you can. But you mustn’t lie. I know which ones are bad. So don’t try and tell me they’re good!”

“Of course not,” Justin shook his head. “Why would I do that?”

“Debbie does, and Michael, too,” Gus said disdainfully.

Justin lowered his voice, “Maybe they don't know any better?”

Gus shrugged. “Daddy says some people lie to you when you’re a kid, and then they just continue to do that when you're a grown-up.”

“Unfortunately, that’s often true,” Justin sighed. “But they won't be able to lie to you, because you’re already onto them.”

Gus grinned. “Daddy taught me how to tell.”

“He taught me, too.” Justin remembered Brian instructing him to watch people’s eyes, observe their body-language, and listen to the tone of their voice, take note of a pause not caused by the necessity to breathe. 

He still wondered what had made him think he could lie to Brian. Brian had probably known the truth before he had even finished his sentence.

They shared a smile, and then Justin studied the boy’s efforts. He was doing well. Not the simple stuff Molly had done at that age, and not what he had been able to do. What Gus lacked in co-ordination, he made up for in imagination and talent.

Finally, Justin looked up. “You’re good,” he said honestly. “I think you feel these are the ones that don’t work right,” he pointed to three or four drawings.

“Yes,” Gus said. “Dad says I need to work on perspective, but I didn't understand his description, and we got interrupted before he could explain again.”

“Okay. One of the problems is that you haven’t got very good control over your muscles yet, Gus. That is something that improves naturally as you get older, and you can’t do much about it at the moment. As for perspective, I can show you a few tricks.”

Justin explained patiently, making sure Gus grasped the concept.

“You should’ve been a teacher,” Lindsay smiled, settling in a chair opposite them, cradling a glass.

Justin caught the whiff of alcohol, and wondered. It was a bit early to start drinking; they hadn’t even had lunch yet.

“Gus has a good eye; it's fun teaching him,” he explained.

“Daddy said that, what does it mean,” Gus wanted to know.

“It means that you can transfer what you see onto paper. Not many people can do that. They look at something, but they have no clue how to get it from their eyes to their fingers to paper. The trick is to put in all the important bits, and leave out what doesn’t belong. You have to be able to see that, and a lot of people can’t.”

Gus nodded. “Daddy says you do great portraits. Can I watch how you do that?”

“Sure,” Justin said readily. 

He was used to his teachers looking over his shoulders, and Brian. The kid wouldn’t be a problem. And Brian thought his portraits were great! It was a nice thing to find out.

“Ask your mom to sit for us.”

“Right,” Lindsay laughed. “As long as you flatter me!”

She sounded tipsy, Justin realized. He smiled reassurance. “I don’t need to flatter you, pretty lady!”

Amused, Justin noticed that the boy’s sketch-pad was as good as the ones he used. Brian had never been stingy, and obviously, only the best would do for his son. 

With a clean sheet of paper in front of him, Justin started to work, explaining to Gus about proportion and perspective as he went along. Having drawn Lindsay before, it was an uncomplicated task. Portraits had always been the easiest for him. 

He saw the differences, though – Lindsay was ageing. It wasn’t just the crow’s feet lining the corners of her eyes, it was the slightly sagging chin, the unhealthy pallor of her skin and the limp hair. He hadn’t seen her in a year, and she looked as though she had aged ten.

Doing portraits did that for him. He looked at people more closely, more attentively. Sometimes, thinking about the people he portrayed, he discovered things about them he hadn't known before. Maybe he needed to do more sketches of Brian?

Strange, Lindsay was the same age as Brian, and Brian still looked almost as young as the day they had met. Did having a kid put so much strain on a woman’s body? Or did Brian just have more life in him than most people?

Either way, Justin ended up flattering Lindsay – he didn’t want her to take this home and compare it to the drawings she already had.

“Here you go,” Justin finally said. “All done!”

“Oh good,” Lindsay said, getting to her feet. “My glass is empty.”

“Mom looks nice,” Gus said, apparently well pleased. “Thank you so much, Justin!”

“Anytime,” Justin grinned. “Doing stuff with you is fun!”

 

Debbie had obviously decided that things had been peaceful for long enough. “So, Lindsay, who is this Sam,” she inquired.

“You heard Bri,” Lindsay said, pouring herself another large drink. “None of your business.”

“We have a right to know what goes on with JR,” Debbie insisted.

Oh, the royal we now, was it? Judson suppressed a sigh. Such busy-bodies. So blind to the needs and wishes of others.

“Maybe. But you have no rights where I’m concerned,” Lindsay sounded exasperated.

Debbie glared at her. “I’ve taken you in, and I’ve always treated you and Mel like my own daughters. You're bringing up my grand-daughter. And now you tell me I’ve no rights?”

“Beneficium accipere est libertatem vendere, isn’t that right Debbie?” 

Brian sounded cool, too cool. And Melanie looked like she had cried. But they were walking close together, and Judson took that as a sign that the negotiations had been fairly successful.

Debbie stared at Brian angrily, hands on hips. “You know damn well I don’t speak French.”

“Or Latin, for that matter,” Judson heard Molly mutter. He grinned at her, and got a wink in return.

“Forgot,” Brian said smoothly. “It means that if you accept benefits you give up freedom.”

If Brian believed that, it would explain why he hated having to accept any sort of support. Judson wondered again how Brian managed to grow up to be the man he was.

“Being part of my family isn’t a benefit, Brian. You should know that,” Debbie said.

Shane smirked, and Judson felt a similar expression creep into his own features. Jennifer and Tucker were grinning at each other a bit too widely, and Justin had turned away, his shoulders shaking.

To his credit, Brian managed to keep a straight face. “In return for mothering everybody, you expect to be given a mother’s rights. It doesn’t work that way with adults, Debbie.”

“Michael tells me everything,” Debbie insisted.

“Yeah,” Ted said, “because he’s too scared not to.”

“I like talking to my mom,” Michael said. “She makes sense.”

“Unless she’s sending you off with Doctor David, huh,” Ted grinned.

“That was Brian who did that,” Michael protested.

Judson saw the look Brian and Justin exchanged. They obviously remembered differently.

“You made my boy go to Portland,” Debbie demanded, outraged. “How could you?”

“I seem to recall,” Brian said slowly, his eyes narrowing dangerously, “that you turned up at the loft, saying that I fucked it up for your son; that I owed your kid something; demanding that I help Mikey grow up, help him be a man, stop him having fun and make him grab his chance with the good doctor. I did what you asked me to do, Debbie.”

There was a ghost of Debbie’s phrasing in Brian’s voice, her syntax, the melody of her speech. Apparently his recollection was correct, if Debbie’s shocked face was anything to go by.

“Mom! You had no right…” Michael moaned, but he was ignored.

“Then why did he come back,” Debbie asked, her voice rising.

Brian shrugged. “Don’t blame me. I stayed away from him. Apparently, Mikey managed to fuck up all by his little self.”

“You should have gone to Oregon, and helped him sort it out.”

“Now, Debbie, why would I do that? I didn't give a fuck about Mikey, or David. I’m a heartless shit, remember,” Brian said, his face impassive.

Too expressionless, Judson thought. Just as he had feared – that look in Brian's eyes was back, darkening the hazel to chocolate almost.

“It’s not like you didn't have the time,” Michael said. “You could’ve visited.”

“I’m a very busy man, Michael,” Brian replied.

Emmett shook his head. “Drop it, Michael. And you, Debbie. David was a control freak, and he was treating Michael like he must’ve treated his ex-wife. Brian was the only one who saw through him, and he warned you, Michael. You just didn't want to hear it, sweetheart.”

“David was adorable,” Debbie insisted.

Ben and Brian exchanged a quick glance, Ben appeared resigned.

“Yeah, adorable. And it was totally adorable how we suddenly weren’t good enough for Michael anymore,” Emmett said. “Brian even had to pay to get us into the party for that Senator. And then Michael was ashamed of us, you most of all, Debbie.”

“It wasn't that bad,” Debbie said weakly. “If we hadn’t dressed up like a bunch of faggots…”

Justin got up and stood next to Brian, putting an arm around his waist. As if on auto-pilot, Brian draped an arm around his shoulders. 

Judson wondered how often they had presented this united front to the world, without ever realizing what they were doing. He returned Shane’s reckoning stare levelly. There was no way he was going to give Brian more grief. If he needed to be with Justin this badly, he would not stand in his way.

“David was an asshole, and you were pushing Michael at him because you wanted your son to go out with somebody classy. Only, David had airs and graces, but no class. He made Michael feel inferior and inept. It was almost as if he wanted Michael to be his My Fair Lady, and you were just so proud that somebody had picked your kid for the part. Brian was doing Michael a favor when he told him to stay away from David!”

Justin glared at Debbie, daring her to contradict him.

“Look who’s talking,” Debbie sneered. “The world’s two biggest experts on relationships, who haven't been able to sort theirs out in five years!”

Judson imagined that he saw both of them flinch, and Brian drew Justin closer to him.

“I simply haven't had the time,” Brian said icily. “I had to take care of your son first.”

“Fuck you! You don’t give a shit about my kid!” Debbie yelled.

“I don’t give a shit about anybody,” Brian said, still in that cold tone. “I thought we had established that.”

“You give a shit, Daddy,” Gus said tremulously, clinging to Brian's trousers with both hands. “They just don’t give a shit about you.”

“Fuck. Where do you come from? I thought you guys were in the playground.” Brian let go of Justin and picked up Gus. “Shh, no reason to be upset; it's okay. We’re just having a lively debate.”

“You’re shitting me,” Gus complained. “You were fighting.”

Brian sucked his lips into his mouth. “You're right. We were having a debate, and it has turned into a bit of an argument. We’ll stop, okay?”

“No,” Debbie said furiously. “We’re having this out, now.”

“You’re on your own. I’m not upsetting my kid on your account,” Brian replied.

“He can go play,” Michael said.

Brian shot him a look full of hurt surprise and shook his head. “Come on, guys, we’re out of here.”

He turned, grabbed Justin's wrist and pulled him along.

“Brian Kinney! You stand still and listen to what I have to say.”

Brian laughed. “I’m not fourteen anymore, Debbie. You don’t scare me.”

“Did she scare you when you were fourteen,” Judson heard Gus ask as they vanished into the house. He would have liked to hear Brian’s answer.

“Well,” Judson said. “Wasn't that cozy. Lunch, anybody?”


	13. Thirteen

“Where are we going,” Gus asked, clinging to Brian’s neck.

“How about the library,” Brian suggested. “I’ll go get us some food and we can have a picnic on the floor.”

Justin grinned at Brian's wink. What was this, a case of all good things come to him who can wait?

He had thought Brian would put the boy down, but he didn’t. Instead, he transferred Gus into his arms, and Justin was so startled at the compact warm weight that he almost dropped the kid. Brian raised a sarcastic eyebrow at him and jutted his chin at the library door.

“Go in there. I won’t be a minute,” he said. “Lock the door.”

Justin did as he was told, and thought it was sad that Brian felt the need to lock doors in his own house. What a difference to the loft!

“We’re always in here when we want to be alone, or in the studio. When we lock the door, Judson knows we won’t come out until we’re ready,” Gus explained. “You can put me down now.”

Justin did, and smiled. “You get to talk to your dad a lot.”

Gus nodded. “He phones me every second day, and now that I can read, we write emails every day! And when I’m here, I can talk to him whenever I want.”

“That’s great,” Justin said sincerely, dropping his bag. “You know your dad better than I ever knew mine.”

“That’s how I know he gives a shit. About you, and Judson. And Shane, too. But I think he doesn’t want to care about Michael and Debbie anymore, or Ted.”

Gus went to a chest of drawers Justin hadn’t noticed before, and took out a white cloth. “Help me spread it on the floor, please?”

Justin did, and Gus brought glasses and napkins.

“Do you like Michael, Justin?”

“I’m not sure, Gus. When we first met, I thought he was a bit of a jerk. But then I realized that your dad really liked him, so I tried to like him too. We got along for a while, but right now, I’m back to not liking him.”

“And Debbie?”

Justin shrugged. “I don’t like how she talks to your dad, so the answer is no, I guess. Even though she’s usually nice to me.”

There was a knock on the door, and Brian said cheerfully, “Room-service, gentlemen! Are you decent?”

Gus giggled and ran to open the door, locking it again behind Brian.

Brian had brought plates and cutlery, and a small wicker basket filled with bread, butter, cheese, cherry tomatoes, peanut-butter, avocados, some jam, orange juice, guava juice, three bottles of Evian, and a bowl full of fresh strawberries.

They settled on the floor, and Justin realized that the thick carpet in combination with the cushions from the fireplace was really comfortable.

Brian poured juice for them and helped Gus spread peanut-butter on his bread, adding a slice of cheese. Apparently, Brian still liked his own peanut-butter with avocados, which Justin had always thought was plain weird. 

Come to think of it, it was even weirder that Brian had remembered he liked his peanut-butter with jam.

“Daddy. You talked to Mom Mel now. Have you made your decision yet,” Gus asked, and bit into his sandwich.

“No, I haven’t, Gus. I still need to talk to your mom.”

“You can’t talk to her today,” Gus said. “She’ll be drunk again by the time we get back.”

Brian sighed. “I was afraid of that. My lawyer will come by tomorrow morning. Tell you what, I’ll make my decision tomorrow evening, before you go to bed, whether I’ve spoken to her or not. How does that sound?”

Gus beamed. “That sounds good, Daddy!”

“Okay,” Brian smiled. “Then you can put it out of your mind for now, right? You brought your sketch-pad, did you get anything done?”

Gus nodded eagerly. “I did a tree growing behind a bush that came out pretty good. But my horse looks like a dog. And Justin helped me on perspective, and let me watch him sketch mom!”

“Justin's the expert,” Brian said. “Did you understand what he told you? Do you think you can do it now?”

Gus frowned and thought for a moment. “I understood what I need to do. But I’ve got to practice to get it right.”

Justin was surprised at the influence Brian had on his son. 

The kid really thought about his answers, almost like an adult. And their relationship was something else – Brian didn’t talk down to Gus, like Michael did. But he also didn’t treat the boy like a small adult. He handled him like – what? A person, Justin realized. Much like he had dealt with him, actually. Brian made allowances for inexperience, in his private life as well as at work. And he was always willing to share his knowledge. Small wonder the people at Vangard had adored Brian.

“Justin’s portrait looks different to yours,” Gus commented.

“We’re two different people, but I don’t think that’s what you’re trying to say. What kind of difference do you see?”

Gus chewed on his sandwich for a moment, obviously deep in thought.

Brian didn’t press him; he ate his bread and prepared another slice for himself, patiently waiting for Gus to reply.

“Mom looks prettier in Justin’s sketch. He left out all the wrinkles! And he did something with her hair, too. There’s something else… can I look at the picture?”

Brian nodded. “Sure. It’s a difficult question.”

Justin raised his eyebrows, watching Gus put the sandwich down and wipe his fingers on a napkin before fetching his pad.

“Doesn’t he normally get to look?”

Brian grinned. “Depends. I’m trying to teach him to remember things he’s looking at. There’s no point in looking in the first place if you don’t take in what you see.”

“And who taught you?”

“Nobody,” Brian shrugged. “I had to figure it out by myself.”

Justin knew that it was easier for him to remember things if he drew them. But he recalled that Brian was always very aware of his surroundings. At Babylon, Brian could spot trouble before the protagonists knew there was going to be any. It was an indication of his surprise and shock that Brian hadn’t been able to give a better description of his father’s car that time he rammed him.

Justin also knew that people always imagined Brian picked up ideas for his campaigns out of thin air. He didn’t really, his ads were often the result of things he had heard or seen that day. That was Brian’s real genius - to process information and transform it into something new.

Gus came back with the pad and sat next to Brian, looking at Lindsay’s portrait for a long moment. “Her face is friendlier,” he decided. “Justin put a smile into her eyes.”

Brian wiped his fingers and held out his hand. “Let me see?”

He studied the portrait for a while, his head tilted.

Gus looked at him expectantly, and Justin realized that he was doing the same. Yes. It was still important what Brian thought. Always would be. And Brian's approval was even more important. Who cared about Caswell and Co., when there was Brian’s voice to be heard?

“Do you like this portrait, Gus?” Brian closed the sketch-pad and put it down carefully.

Gus nodded. “Yes.”

“Can you tell me why you like it?”

Gus sighed. That one was obviously the trick question.

“I think I’d like mom to look like that again. She used to, you know. Even when you sketched her for me, last summer.”

Brian nodded. “You’re on the right track, sonny-boy. Do you like the sketch I did yesterday?”

“Yes,” Gus said. “You got her just right. Mom looks just like that.”

“Very good. Now put the two together – where’s the difference between Justin's sketch and mine?”

Gus chewed on his lip, the way Brian sometimes did. “Your sketch shows the truth. Justin’s sketch is what could be, but isn’t.”

“I’m proud of you, Gus!” Brian reached out and pulled Gus into his lap, hugging him tightly. “Well done! You’re a smart boy!”

Gus beamed and enthusiastically hugged back.

Grinning, Justin rescued Brian’s wobbling guava juice before it could spill.

“Now I have to finish my sandwich,” Gus declared and went back to his plate. “Are Justin’s portraits all like that, Daddy?”

“Ask Justin,” Brian suggested.

Justin shook his head. “No, no, you can’t do that. No getting out of it. That ball is definitely in your court.”

“Handing over our balls, are we?” Brian grinned. “Fine. Want to leave the room?”

“That bad, huh?” Justin grinned back. “No thanks. I’ll sit it out.”

“Sure about that, Sunshine?”

“I’m sure,” Justin said calmly. “Go on, crunch my fragile little artist’s ego.”

“Which brings us back to the question why you give a shit what I think? And why you think I’m going to crunch anything.”

Justin popped a cherry tomato into his mouth to buy himself a moment. “I’ll tell you after. First you tell Gus what you think.”

“Fair enough,” Brian shrugged. He reached for his juice and took a swallow. “I draw what I see. With Justin, what he sees depends on his mood, and on how he feels about the person he draws.”

Gus nodded. “So it’s not just seeing something and getting it from your eyes to your fingers to the paper.”

Brian shook his head. “Not with Justin, no. Justin doesn’t just sketch what he sees; he makes a statement at the same time.”

“And you don’t,” Gus said.

“I don’t,” Brian said. “I try to copy the truth.”

“Is Justin lying, then?”

“No, he isn’t. Let me rephrase that for you – I sketch what I see, and Justin sketches what he sees. We each see things differently.”

“And which is better,” Gus asked.

“There is no better or worse. Everybody has to do what’s right for them,” Brian said, reaching for a tomato.

“Why did you think Justin would be upset with what you say,” Gus prodded.

Justin wondered whether Brian would answer that one for Gus. He was certain Brian wouldn't have answered him, not then, and not now.

Brian washed down the tomato with some Evian and said, “It’s not always easy to speak your mind, and sometimes you do it in a way that can be misinterpreted. I want you to get what I’m saying, and at the same time, I don’t want to upset Justin.”

Justin snorted. “What your dad is trying to say in a nice way is that I’m touchy.”

“And are you touchy,” Gus asked, eyes wide.

“I guess I am, sometimes. Your dad’s opinion matters to me, and I’m afraid I don’t always take his evaluation very well.”

Gus nodded. “I don’t like being told off, especially by my dad.”

Justin wondered whether that happened a lot. He couldn’t imagine it.

Gus grinned devilishly. “I’m not always such a good boy.”

Justin laughed. “I bet. Your dad probably wasn’t.”

“I wasn’t,” Brian confirmed.

“So, are you going to tell my dad why it matters what he thinks? You said you would.”

“Thanks for that one, Gus,” Justin grinned. “And here I am, hoping I’m off the hook.”

Brian laughed. “Careful, Justin. When Gus is around, you’re never off the hook. Sometimes, he just pulls you in a day later.”

“Not surprising. Like father, like son,” Justin shrugged.

“If you don’t want me to know, I can stick my fingers in my ears,” Gus offered.

Justin shook his head, grinning. “No, there’s no need. You know, Gus, I met your dad when I was seventeen. Until then, only my family and a few friends had seen my sketches – and they always liked everything. The way Michael and Debbie like your drawings, you know? And I always got good grades in art-classes. Your dad was the first person who didn’t always praise me. He pointed out mistakes I made. At first, I was upset about that, but then I realized he gave me a chance to improve. I like that your dad is always honest. That’s why it matters what he says, because he doesn’t shit you.”

Gus smiled. “He doesn’t, does he. And he makes you think.”

“No, he doesn’t and yes, he does,” Justin smiled back.

“Now you talk just like daddy,” Gus said delightedly. 

“Brian. I’d like to see that portrait you did yesterday.”

“How did I know you were going to say that,” Brian sighed. “I don’t show my sketches to anybody, but Gus.”

As always, the rejection hurt. Then again, if Gus was really the only one who got to see Brian’s work… maybe the refusal wasn’t quite as wounding.

“But you said I can have the sketch,” Gus said. “And if it's mine, I can show it to Justin if I want to, can’t I?”

“Spoken like a lawyer,” Brian said, sighing again. “Fine. You can show Justin. But only the one, and only Justin!”

Justin was aware that it was a big concession.

“And if you tell anybody I sketch I’ll feed your balls to the crocodiles.”

Gus laughed. “There are no crocodiles in Pittsburgh, Daddy!”

“Are, too.” Brian grinned. “In the zoo!”

“Oops,” Gus giggled. “Better keep the secret, Justin!”

“I will,” Justin smiled, looking at Brian. “I promise!” And he would. This time, he’d keep his mouth shut firmly. Not like before, when he had promised to keep Brian’s secret, and then gone blabbing. Blabbing to Michael, of all people.

Gus went back to the drawer and got out a single sheet of paper.

The drawing was charcoal, and it was stunning. Justin swallowed. He didn’t know what he had expected, but that was one hell of a portrait.

Lindsay’s eyes seemed to hold yours, and there was a sadness and underlying despair in her expression that squeezed your heart. Brian hadn’t flattered her, obviously not intending her to see this sketch. There were the lines around her eyes Justin had noticed, and a bitter turn to her mouth he had missed. Her hair seemed lifeless, and the set of her shoulders spoke of more years than she actually carried. Lindsay looked petulant and unhappy. 

Lindsay really came across like that, Justin realized. 

And Brian had rendered his impression with the brutal honesty that marked him. Brian’s occasionally harsh words transferred to equally stark images in confident, rapid lines.

“Fuck, Brian. You’re fucking brilliant. You need to show these.”

“You’ve only seen one,” Brian smirked. “Aren’t you a little hasty in your praise?”

Justin met his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot. You know damn well that you can tell from a single piece of work whether somebody knows what they’re doing.”

“Justin…”

Justin interrupted. “Don’t. I know you don’t do false modesty. Why aren’t you sharing these?”

“Because I don’t want to. How do you think Lindsay would feel if she saw this?”

“You once told me not to blame the mirror if you don’t like your reflection. Same with portraits. What people feel is not your problem. As an artist, your responsibility is to yourself.”

“My first responsibility to myself is staying alive,” Brian said dryly. “I consider any exhibition of my talent counter-productive to that objective.”

“Are you having a debate,” Gus asked.

“It would appear so,” Brian said, smiling at his son.

“And do you do that a lot?”

Brian shot Justin a quick look. “That one’s yours to answer.”

Justin thought for a moment. “No. Your dad doesn’t like to share his mind.”

Gus yawned. “You gotta keep asking. When he gets fed up, he tells you what you want to know just to shut you up.”

“Does that work for you?”

Gus nodded. “Daddy knows I keep coming back. In the end, he always answers.”

“Cool,” Justin grinned. “I’ll take your advice.”

“If you guys want to talk about me, maybe I should leave,” Brian said gruffly.

Gus giggled. “We don’t mind you staying, do we, Justin?”

“No,” Justin grinned. “Don’t leave us.”

Brian rolled his eyes and popped another tomato into his mouth. That was five tomatoes, and two slices of good, thick bread with peanut-butter and avocado. Plus two glasses of juice and some Evian. Pretty decent, Justin decided, even though Gus had also managed two slices of bread.

“I think you should do it together,” Gus said. “Show Justin’s portraits and yours right next to them, Daddy.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Really. Why would we do that, Gus?”

Gus shrugged. “Then people can see what they are like, and what they could be like.”

Brian sucked his lips into his mouth. “Do you think people would enjoy that?”

“Probably not,” Gus yawned. “But it would be good for them.”

“I think you should take a nap,” Brian suggested. “You’ve been yawning at us for a while now.”

Gus nodded. “I was up early. I’m tired. Can we stay here?”

“Sure. Go get the afghan from the drawer; I don’t want you to get cold.” Brian got up and pulled the loose cushions off the armchairs, leaving them on the floor for Gus to curl up on. He covered the boy with the afghan and tousled his hair. “Sleep well. We’ll save you some strawberries.”

“No, that’s alright. You and Justin eat them. I’ve had some earlier,” Gus yawned and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.


	14. Fourteen

“Gus can fall asleep even faster than you can,” Brian grinned.

Justin smiled. “Doesn't it bother him if we keep talking?”

Brian shook his head. “When Gus sleeps, he sleeps mercilessly. Noise doesn’t wake him.”

“I agree with Gus, you know. Showing our work together would be hot!”

Brian smirked. “Can you handle that kind of heat, Sunshine?”

“At least think about it! Really. That would be intense!”

“Tell me how you'd get people to sit for this kind of endeavor.”

Justin shrugged. “Don’t tell them what they’re sitting for.”

“That’s false advertising, Justin. I won’t even contemplate going there.”

“Brian! Think about the impact that kind of exhibition would have!”

“Justin. Think about the consequences that kind of exhibition could have.”

Justin frowned. “What do you mean?”

Brian sighed, and went to the chest, unlocking the top drawer. He pulled out a thick file and sat next to Justin. “Here, take a look.”

Charcoal drawings. Black lines, bleak faces thrown onto paper with certainty and without compassion. Indeed, what Brian saw was what you got.

Justin looked at the gray faces of people he had never met, seized and contained by a man with a sharp eye and an astute hand. 

At first, most of the faces were young, and Justin realized these sketches had to be from Brian’s college days. A few were of older men, Brian's professors maybe. Then, a very young Lindsay, vibrant and beautiful, her smile touching you, her twinkling eyes warm. Small wonder Brian had cherished her then. Shane, his physique not quite as developed yet, slender, sleek, his dark eyes alight with laughter. A young woman, who absolutely had to be his sister, her features delicate, her tender smile adorable. 

“She’s beautiful,” Justin murmured. “Who is she?”

“Erin, Shane’s sister,” Brian said. His tone warned Justin to steer clear.

A boy, maybe four or five years old. A mischievous smile and laughing eyes. Gus? No, Brian was too neat to get his sketches out of order. Some other kid with the family resemblance, maybe a cousin. 

A couple in their forties, probably Shane’s parents. The woman smiled just like Erin, and Justin wondered whether Erin looked like that today. She had to be still pretty. The man was distinguished; Justin imagined silver hair and Shane’s dark eyes behind the wire-rim glasses.

Justin almost dropped the file when he saw the next portraits. Brian's mother. 

“Holy shit!”

Brian smirked. “One for the money, two for the show.”

“Fuck,” Justin muttered. He couldn’t even imagine ever drawing his own mother like that. It might have been kinder if Brian had given her horns and fangs. But Brian had simply done her justice, and that was so much worse. 

Justin remembered all too well how he had met Joan, when he was wearing nothing but sweatpants and a smile for Brian. Remembered how the woman had had nothing to say to Brian, had only just managed to choke out that what they were doing was a sin and that Brian would go to hell. Remembered how defeated Brian had looked, slumped against the cold metal of his door. Remembered realizing that the damn door was the drawbridge to Brian’s fortress, and that his mere presence had punched a gigantic big hole into Brian’s walls. Remembered how Brian had shrugged it off, as though he was used to this sort of thing.

Looking at those portraits, Justin understood that Brian was indeed used to it. There were maybe ten years between the two renditions. The only change Brian had seen was that the life was slowly draining out of this person.

Gray hair, gray eyes, gray mouth – and words that sounded gray and tasted gray and made you feel gray all over. Had Joan ever had any fun in life? Had she ever felt joy, love, or excitement? Cold eyes, a thin-lipped mouth that sucked the air from you and left you lifeless. All of that, in one accurate portrait.

The second one was just as good. Or just as bad, because Joan still looked malicious.

Next, a woman with untidy hair, blemished skin, unhappy eyes and a mean mouth. She looked so much like Brian’s mother, she just had to be his sister. What was her name again? Clara? Claire? Claire.

A man with a thick neck, his face thrust out at a belligerent angle, eyes that might want to twinkle but narrowed in anger, a vein at his temple that just had to be throbbing, and a mouth that looked like it hissed in resentment. A man who looked like he had wanted much from life, and who clearly felt he had picked up too little. Brian’s father?

A quick glance at Brian's face told him it would be better not to ask. Brian didn’t fit in with that lot, not one bit.

Justin flipped over to the next sketch.

Young Michael. Naive doe-eyes, a foolish grin and the mindless adulation he reserved for Brian alone. Brian had seen all that so many years ago? And kept Michael around?

Emmett, who hadn’t changed all that much. Emmett would look the same in twenty years, and in thirty. Somehow, it was a comforting thought. Brian had managed to capture Emmett’s unique sparkle in the tilt of his head, and the smile on his face.

Ted. Ouch. Had Ted always looked the part of the boring accountant? Even in his younger days, Ted seemed to have lacked initiative and energy. Small wonder Brian usually called him Theodore, god’s gift. Brian’s sarcasm at full force.

Some images later, he met the first charcoal Melanie. What a dyke she had been! Ultra-short spiky hair, no make-up and a guileless gaze. Pretty, vivacious and full of laughter. It would appear life had driven the laughter out of Mel and Linds. But how, and why? And when?

Some more folks he didn’t recognize.

Ryder was next. Justin recalled his face from a company leaflet he had seen. Brian’s cool strokes showed an unimaginative man, a man who hid behind his glasses and, Justin figured, behind unvoiced prejudices. A man who bought other people’s minds and made his money off them. Not a very complimentary portrait.

Cynthia. Justin grinned. Somehow, Brian's sketch managed to convey his own impression of one extremely efficient whirlwind. A woman who got things done. 

More people he didn’t know. Tricks? No, Brian hardly ever looked at his tricks that closely. Their faces were unimportant, and Brian wouldn’t remember them long enough to draw them.

Business associates? Members of his team?

Hunter, with all the impudence and self-confidence he possessed. Plus a certain sadness in his eyes that was normally easy to miss. Of course, Brian had spotted it, and, more importantly, had managed to capture it.

A young man, who looked like Brian. Somehow, Justin doubted that Brian ever did self-portraits. The cousin, grown up? A handsome face, a serious mouth that turned up at the corners secretly, the way Brian’s mouth did – as if they weren’t sharing the joke, whatever the joke was. Wide eyes met yours with candor, the face spoke of inner strength, purpose and vigor. Maybe Brian, after all?

Ken and Dave, as though Brian couldn’t see one without the other. The sketch focused on their maturity, their kindness and their composure. 

A portrait of Jim, and Justin swallowed. If this was what Jim saw in the mirror, he was a lucky guy. The man’s humanity, charm and good spirits all captured in one gorgeous portrait.

No unkind lights in any of these last portraits, and Justin had to admit he liked these best.

“Fuck, Brian. The old masters would have hated you.”

“Not as much as I hate old,” Brian smirked.

Justin would have liked to ask why these weren’t kept in the studio. Brian always had a reason for everything he did.

“Gus doesn't need to see these,” Brian said softly. “If you’ve looked enough, I’ll put the file back.”

“Not enough,” Justin sighed. “Never enough.”

Brian put the file away, and came back. Justin was relieved Brian settled close to him again.

“Now you know why I don't show them,” Brian said, setting the bowl of strawberries between them and nibbling on one of them.

A small, but visible barrier, Justin thought.

“Some of them are hard-hitting,” Justin conceded. “But it’s a sin to hide them. Brian, you’re fantastic. I’m sure you know that.”

Brian wrinkled his nose. “Don’t mention sin to me.”

“Whatever you want to call it,” Justin said impatiently. “You ought to be out there.”

“I am out,” Brian grinned. “I’ve been out for some twenty years.”

Justin swatted at his arm, he just couldn't help it. “You’re being obstreperous.”

Brian shrugged. “End of discussion.”

“Brian…”

“Stop. I’ll explain, because you’re obviously not getting it. My portraits are like photos. You can take photos of anybody, but if you want to make them public, you need the subject’s permission.”

“Photos, yes. Portraits, no.”

“I wouldn't like it if somebody did it to me, I won’t do it to others.”

Justin frowned. “You didn't like it when I showed your picture at the GLC Art Exhibition?”

“You could’ve asked first,” Brian said.

“To quote Debbie, everybody and the President have seen your ass. What’s the difference?”

Brian stared at him for a long moment; it was a hard, reckoning look. “The difference is, you portrayed me sleeping. Unaware.”

“It was an accurate likeness,” Justin said defensively.

“We won’t mention the slight enhancements,” Brian shot back. “Accuracy wasn't the problem, Justin. You know damn well – and you knew then – that my tricks don’t get to spend the night. I trusted you, and basically, you stole that portrait from me.”

“Then why did you buy it?”

“I’ve a right to my own image,” Brian said.

Justin shook his head. “Hell, you’re complicated.”

“Complex,” Brian contradicted. “I’m pretty straightforward, actually.”

“Yeah, you’re so straightforward that everybody else is just going in circles around you. Why didn’t you simply tell me to take it down?”

“I knew you were showing it before I got there,” Brian said. “It was the first time you got to present your work to people who didn’t know you. I wasn't going to spoil that thrill for you; and anyway, I didn't think you'd understand what the problem was. You have a hard time getting it now.” 

“Thanks. Just tell me straight out that I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, you’re an asshole,” Brian said, sounding amused.

Annoyed, Justin wanted to scramble to his feet. Brian’s firm grip on his wrist stopped him.

“Don’t always run away when you don’t hear what you want to hear. You said you’d sit it out.”

“I changed my mind,” Justin said.

Brian let go immediately. “You do that a lot,” he commented. “Off you go.”

Justin hesitated. They were not discussing something that had happened more than six years ago, were they? Sighing, he sat back down.

Brian raised that damned, sexy right eyebrow at him. “Changed your mind again?”

“Yeah,” Justin said bitterly, “Assholes do that a lot, didn’t you know?”

Brian bit his lip. “I don’t get you.”

“I don’t get you, does that make us even?”

“No, that makes us complicated.”

Justin snorted a laugh. “Right. Tell me what it is you don’t get, and I’ll try and explain myself.”

“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation,” Brian muttered. “You are the one who wants to get inside my head. When I let you in, you’re hurt.”

Justin took a deep breath. Uncommunicative and distant Brian, actually speaking his mind. Wow.

“This shit about the portrait, it makes me wonder about the things you kept to yourself all this time. I mean, I know you weren’t telling me much to start off with, but now I’m beginning to feel you kept all the really important things to yourself.”

Brian shrugged. “That's what I do. What’s the use in talking? Half the time people don’t hear what you're saying.”

“I would’ve heard you.”

“No, Justin. You hardly ever did, even when I was as plain as I could be.”

“Like when?”

“Like when I agreed to stick to your rules. For me, that was a commitment. For you, it was a method of controlling me.”

“You had the same control over me,” Justin disagreed.

Brian raised both eyebrows. “That’s another lie. If you really want to talk, at least show me the courtesy of being honest. Otherwise I don’t see the fucking point.”

“But you did have that control,” Justin said, frowning.

“No. You had control, because I agreed to the rules. You had little intention of applying them to yourself.”

“That’s so not true,” Justin said heatedly. “Of course I did!”

Taking a deep breath, Brian replied, “Did not. If you had taken the rules seriously, it would have taken you longer to break them.”

Justin frowned. “You're saying I would’ve broken the rules, either way.”

“Justin. You were, what? Eighteen? Of course you were going to break them.”

“Nineteen,” Justin said. “I was nineteen. You must’ve broken the rules, a couple of times.”

Brian shook his head, biting his lower lip. “That was your excuse? I hate to disappoint. I didn’t break your rules. Not until you walked out with Ian, and it was clear you weren’t coming back.”

“Ethan,” Justin corrected automatically. “Did you draw that picture of Rage on your Harley?”

“When did you see the Harley,” Brian asked, surprised.

“It was parked on Liberty when I got into town,” Justin said. “I couldn't remember that sketch, and now I’m sure I didn't do it.”

Brian shrugged. “You didn't. I did.”

“He looks like Rage, and yet, he doesn't.”

“Your point?”

“I don’t know what my point is,” Justin said, exasperated.

“Need help,” Brian asked, amused.

“I guess I do,” Justin admitted.

“I meant what I said to Gus. I sketch what I see. You draw what you feel.”

“So Rage is a self-portrait?”

“That’s Rage. How can it be a self-portrait?”

“Rage is you.”

Brian didn't budge, and yet, Justin had the feeling Brian had moved away from him. 

“Is that why you pissed on those prints? Because you were upset we were using your face?”

“No. I was pissed at you for standing me up at Babylon, for messing up the loft and above all, for letting Michael sleep on my bed. He knows damn well he’s not wanted there, and first chance he gets, he crawls in. With you, to top it all off. You guys were lucky I didn't piss on you!”

Justin grinned. “That would’ve spoiled the duvet for sure.”

“Exactly.”

“You were jealous.”

Brian shrugged. “I told you I was. You heard what you wanted to hear.”

“Meaning?”

“I was jealous of Rage,” Brian sighed. “I knew you were leaving me.”

Justin shook his head. “I hadn’t even met Ethan yet.”

Brian rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

Cautiously, Justin prodded him with his foot. “Say it already.”

“I keep saying it. You don’t hear it.”

“Spell it out for me. You know I’m stupid,” Justin sighed.

“You’re young,” Brian corrected. “I told you, you draw what you feel. Do your own thinking, don’t be so lazy.”

“You already have the solution. Just tell me!” Justin was really getting impatient now.

“Fuck, Justin. You want me to chew your food for you, too?”

“Eew,” Justin shook himself. “Gross!”

“Chewing food for thought is just as gross,” Brian said.

“Fine,” Justin threw up his hands. “Give me a minute.”

He half expected Brian to say he’d need an hour.

So. They had created Rage, who was a fucking super-hero. Brains, courage, strength – Brian. What was wrong with that?

“Drawing a blank,” Brian asked after a while.

Justin rolled his eyes at the pun. “Yes. I still like Rage. I mean, he's a super-hero. And you're our model. What’s your problem?”

Brian shrugged. “Blinded by the light, kiddo. Why did you guys need a fantasy hero all of a sudden?”

“We didn't need Rage. We wanted him.”

Brian groaned. “Justin. Another minute of this, and I’ll end up bashing my head against the wall. You created Rage with Michael because you could handle Rage when you couldn’t handle me; and because you could use Rage to tell me what you wanted from me.”

“Ouch,” Justin said. “I can see why you’d think that, but we weren’t planning it.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “I know.”

“Is that why you didn't like the sketch I did for Gus? Because you thought I was trying to tell you something? I wasn’t, you know. Gus wanted that motif.”

“Right. I’ll spell it out for you, Justin. This once. Rage is a fantasy. Something you created for yourself, and for Michael. As time went on, Rage had less and less to do with me, your so-called model. Ben was correct in his assessment, I think – the comics weren’t about Rage. In the end, they were about Zephyr and JT. When you look at me, do you see Rage?”

Justin hesitated. “I guess I must do, a bit.”

Brian nodded, as though he had expected that reply. “The sketch you did for Gus got to me, because you did it without thinking. You simply drew your dream. When I offered you the reality, you didn’t want it.”

That was brutal. Justin swallowed.

Weakly, he said, “Rage is great. We wanted you to like him.”

“I can’t stand the jerk. In the first issue, he kills the guys who attacked JT; by fucking with their minds, no less. Rage becomes more violent with every issue, and he ends up fighting your internal battles, and Michael’s. You never resolve those issues, though.”

“But he’s strong, and compassionate,” Justin tried to defend his hero.

“Strong? What’s strong about executing somebody by making them believe they are what they hate? I suppose you were flipping Chris Hobbs the bird with that one, and your father. It's still wrong. Compassion? Rage has no compassion, Justin, and that's not just because Michael is a lousy writer. Rage manipulates the world until it fits his requirements, instead of coping with reality. He does what you and Michael would like to be able to do.”

“I’m okay with reality.”

“You're not. First, you tell me you know what to expect from me. Next thing I know, you’re trying to make me an Ersatz-hetero. How is that being okay with reality?”

Reluctantly, Justin acknowledged, “You’ve got a point. That wasn’t fair.”

Brian shook his head. “What wasn't fair was that you were having that discussion with me while your bags were already packed.”

“I was pretty certain you weren’t willing to go there, but I had to try.”

“Instead of being okay with reality and telling me straight out that you were leaving.”

Justin shrugged. “I wanted to give you a chance.”

“Is that what you think, Justin? That you were giving me a chance? You never did, not once. From the beginning, you wanted what you thought I should be. You never even got to know me.”

Justin swallowed. “That’s not true. I know you.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “What do you know that other people don’t know?”

“I don’t know what other people don’t know.”

“That's what I’m thinking.”

Sighing, Justin said, “I meant, I have no idea what Shane knows about you, or Judson, or Debbie.”

“I know what you meant, but it came out right. As far as I’m aware, you don’t know a thing about me somebody else doesn't also know. And when I entrusted you with a secret, you gave it away.”

Ouch. Yes. Justin hastily pushed the thought away. “And you’re saying Shane knows something about you that you didn’t share with anybody else?”

“He does. Gus does. Even your mother knows something you never found out.”

“And you're saying that's because I didn’t want to find out?”

Brian shrugged. “You were too busy altering reality.”

“That hurts,” Justin admitted. “Why have me back, when you think I’m not able to understand you?”

“I thought you were unwilling, not unable. I hoped that would change with time.”

“But you need to be a bit blind to reality. You can’t love somebody when you can see through them.”

Brian gave him that look. The supremely superior look that was usually reserved for Ted or Michael, when they said something incredibly stupid.

“You’re younger than I thought,” Brian said, sounding disappointed. “If you love somebody, you don't mind the flaws.”

Justin sighed, trying to understand what Brian was saying. There was something he wasn’t saying, wasn't there?

“You tried to change me, Brian.”

Brian shook his head. “I may have tried to change your opinions, but I didn’t want you to change.”

“You kept telling me to put up with the things you did.”

“I’m twelve years older than you are, Justin. I have habits that I’m comfortable with. What I wanted from you wasn’t change. I wanted you to see my reality, and decide whether you could live with it. Instead, you kept running away when things became difficult.”

“You didn't stop me.”

“No,” Brian sighed. “Never hold up a traveler.”

“You knew I was wrong. You should’ve stopped me.”

“Stopping you would not have stopped the inevitable. I could have seduced you into staying for another week, or another month. Maybe a year. But eventually, you would have left.”

“We were going to get married. You had a right to stop me then.”

Brian smiled, a sad little smile. When had he seen him smile like that? In the diner, the morning after the King of Babylon contest. A smile that had meant nothing to him then, and now told him he had overshot the mark.

“I tried. I changed. You didn't like the change.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don't know what it means to you,” Brian shrugged. “To me, it meant you wanted out, period.”

“You encouraged me to go.”

“This is going nowhere real fast,” Brian rubbed his temples.

Justin sighed. “Am I understanding this correctly? You're not willing to change, because you believe it doesn't make a difference. That means I have to change, right?”

Brian rolled his eyes. “If you consider making up your mind and sticking by your decisions changing, then yes, you need to change. Don’t do it for me, or because you hope to get me back. Do it for yourself.”

“Is that what you expect from Gus, at his age? To know his own mind?”

“What does age have to do with it? If you have a brain, you may as well use it.”

“You do agree with something Rage does, then. He changes people.”

“I am not changing anybody,” Brian said, taking a deep breath. “I encourage you to use your head for something other than letting your hair grow.”

“That’s what Rage does. He makes people change their mind.”

“Justin! Rage doesn't change people’s opinions by talking to them; instead, he muddles their mind and ultimately, murders them.”

“But they’re evil. They deserve to die.”

“Listen to yourself, Justin. Do you believe that, deep down?”

Justin thought for a moment. “I guess I do.”

“How come Chris Hobbs is still alive, then? Why didn’t you pull the trigger? Weren’t you ‘ready for a little guilt to tarnish your shiny armor’?”

Fuck. He had entirely forgotten the reason why Brian hated noise. That exceptional hearing of his. You’d think with all the loud music Brian listened to, his hearing would have become impaired. Clearly, it hadn't happened yet. Had Brian heard the rest of his conversation with Shane?

“You weren’t supposed to overhear that,” Justin mumbled.

Brian snorted a laugh. “I have to give you credit for cottoning on so quickly. Judson hasn’t, yet.”

“Why didn't you ever tell me you sketched?”

Brian shrugged. “At the time, only the Sheas knew that I do. Lindsay sort of conveniently forgot. I had no intention of keeping you around, Justin. I wanted you in my bed, not in my life. I still can't figure out how you managed to hold on for so long.”

Fuck. Even now, after all this time, it stung when Brian said things like that. 

“But I did, and still you didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t realize there was no getting rid of you until the prom. Then, I couldn't tell you.”

No, of course not. 

Not Brian. 

Brian, who knew how much his art meant to him. Brian, who understood that it wasn't just a matter of switching to his left hand. Brian, the only person who knew the moment the cramps set in and who spent countless hours massaging his gimp hand. Brian, who encouraged him, but never pacified him.

Justin nodded. “I get that. But Rage - you were praising that first issue. Were you lying?”

Brian grimaced. “Fuck, you’d remember that. I always praise Michael; I used to praise him for getting fucking Cs in High School. I commend him for trying. And your drawings are good.”

“You mean that? My drawings are good?”

“I just know that’s a leading question. Yes, Justin. I mean it.”

Justin smiled. “Sketch something with me?”

“Where’s this going,” Brian frowned.

“Dense doesn't look as good on you as Gucci does,” Justin grinned.

Brian sighed, laying his exasperation on thick. “Not a competition, Justin.”

“Not a competition,” Justin confirmed, certain that he was beaming much like Gus.

“Then what?”

“I just want to do something we haven't done before.” Justin shrugged. 

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Motif?”

“A portrait. How about… Debbie?”

“Debbie? I hope Gus brought enough reds,” Brian scoffed. “Fine. A portrait of Debbie, in fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes,” Justin squealed. “No way. I need half an hour, at least.”

“How’s your hand holding up? You’ve done quite a bit of work today already.”

Justin shrugged. “Yeah, but I’ve had breaks in between. Another half hour won’t make much difference, and then I’ll rest ready for tomorrow when I start on the orchids. Okay?”

“Okay. No more sketching today, promise?”

“I promise,” Justin sighed, hoping he sounded long-suffering, rather than grateful. He was grateful. Grateful that they were able to have a discussion that didn't dissolve into an argument. Grateful that Brian cared. Grateful to have Brian all to himself for a while.

Justin moved until he was facing Brian, grabbed his messenger bag and pulled out his sketch-pad and pencils. He kept digging, certain that he had some charcoal in here somewhere…

“Need GPS,” Brian asked, amused.

“I wanted to give you my charcoals, but I can’t find them.”

“We should use the same medium if you want to compare the portraits,” Brian said reasonably, reaching for his son’s sketch-pad. “I know you don’t like charcoals, I can use pencils.”

“Cool,” Justin smiled and set out the pencils between them. He looked at his watch. “Half an hour?”

“Thirty minutes,” Brian grinned.

“Okay, go.”

Justin set to work, trying to get into that space in his head where he could sketch without thinking. Did Brian ever do anything without his mind going full blast? Certainly not sketching. Every line in his pictures spoke of awareness.

He stole a quick glance over at Brian, who seemed focused on his work. Brian could become engrossed in what he was doing within seconds. Had concentration always been this easy for him, or had he trained himself somehow?

Suddenly, Justin wanted to know more about the young Brian. What had Brian been like at fourteen? At twenty? Even at twenty-five? 

Shane. Shane had those answers. But would Shane be willing to share? 

Don’t, he told himself. You need to concentrate if you want to match Brian’s standard.

Debbie’s face. Cheerful. Bubbly. Sharp eyes. Large hair, large mouth. Debbie was large. Maybe a little too large?

“Tick, tick, tick, pencils down,” Brian said softly. “Time’s up.”

Justin glanced at his watch. He was aware Brian had stopped working ages ago. Indeed, time was up. Had been up for five minutes, actually. He wasn’t quite satisfied, he hadn’t had time to soften that line, highlight that feature… it would have to do.

He grinned at Brian, who raised an eyebrow in response. “Showtime, Sunshine.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Brian groaned at the lame quip, but handed over his sketch.

Justin put the portraits next to each other, keeping Brian’s close. And stared. That was Debbie all right. Debbie without the wig, and without all the make-up. Debbie without the mask. Terrifying.

Carl had guts, Justin thought. There was no way he wanted to wake up next to that cunning face in the morning. There was no way he’d go to sleep with that person in his bed.

Shrewd eyes, and a glare that looked icy with no eyeliner and no mascara to soften it. Pale skin, ashen hair. A mouth that seemed sunken without lipstick, and the corners drooped. A face that looked vicious and resentful.

It wasn’t even that Brian didn't like Debbie. Was that the face Brian saw when Debbie looked at him? As though Debbie didn't like Brian. And that wasn't true, was it?

“But Debbie likes you,” Justin said, astonished how helpless he sounded.

Brian stared at him, eyes wide with surprise. “Not that it matters, but what makes you think Debbie likes me?”

Bewildered, Justin stared back. 

Christ, Brian had gorgeous eyes. All that green and brown and gold… like a summer meadow early in the morning. You could get lost in those eyes.

Brian blinked and leaned back on his elbows. “What are you looking at?”

Justin shook himself. Fuck, what was he thinking?

“Erm. I was trying to figure out why you think Debbie doesn't like you.”

“She likes me as much as she’d like a wart on her nose,” Brian said calmly. “I happen to know. So, how come you think she likes me?”

“She’s nice to you,” Justin said feebly.

“When it suits her,” Brian shot back. “When she wants to get me to do something. I’ll make it easy for you. Name one nice thing Debbie has done for me.”

Justin thought fervently. Brian had a point. 

Debbie yelled at Brian whenever she felt he deserved it. And she seemed to think he deserved it most of the time. After the little fiasco with the unlocked loft and the stolen credit card she had taken him in, and let him work at the diner. But that hadn't been for Brian, that had been for him. She told Brian to let go of Michael, and when he did, she shrieked at him.

Oh yes, he had overheard their little talk the morning after Michael’s birthday party. Debbie had thanked Brian, in a roundabout way. At the same time, she had criticized him. He had done what she wanted, but not how she wanted it. And that farewell kiss? More like a consolation prize, Justin realized. You’ve been a fairly good boy, so I’ll like you. For a little while.

Fuck. Jim had been right last night. Whatever Brian did, he couldn’t win Debbie’s approval. Whatever happened, she thought it was Brian’s fault. She had Brian pegged for an asshole, and that was that. Yet, she expected him to clean up after everybody. He even had had to solve that murder case for her. Funny, that. Why had Brian done what should’ve been Carl’s job?

Brian really was the Pittsburgh version of Rage – heartless ad exec by day, defender of queers by night. Justin suppressed his smirk, aware that it wouldn't go down well.

“Accept it. She doesn’t like me, Justin,” Brian said coolly.

Justin sighed. “Are those the faces you see when you look at people?”

“You have trouble looking behind the masks. I have to concentrate to see what the mask looks like.”

How odd, just what he had been thinking. Less concisely, of course.

“Are you saying everybody wears masks?”

“Are you saying they don’t?”

“What’s your mask,” Justin asked, unable to stop himself.

Brian exhaled. “You get to guess.”

Ad exec? Heartless shit? Liberty Avenue’s own Casanova? Label queen?

None of these, Justin decided. In order for the mask to be effective, you have to wear it all the time. Which was why Debbie had slapped her wig back on even before getting to her feet when she had collapsed in the diner that time.

“There is no mask,” Justin said softly.

Brian remained silent.

After a while, Justin said, “I know there isn’t, Brian. Your mask is that everybody thinks you’ve got one.”

“Very good, Sunshine. What you see is what gets you,” Brian snorted.

Justin thought for a moment. Did he really want to continue with this conversation? On the other hand, this was a unique chance. It was unlikely that Brian would be this open again any time soon.

“Why have you invited all and sundry?”

Brian shrugged. “Time to pick over.”

“So, you’re getting rid of Ted?”

Brian grimaced. “First.”

Justin grinned. “You’d think by now he’d know not to bite the hand that feeds him. Emmett?”

“I’m fond of Emmett,” Brian admitted with visible reluctance. “But he's a little scared of me. I think he’s going to stick with Ted and Michael.”

“Michael!” Justin whispered. “You don’t want Michael?”

“No,” Brian said firmly. “I don't want Michael. He can thank Debbie for that.”

“You’ve put up with Debbie all this time,” Justin said hesitantly.

“She’s been putting up with me,” Brian said. “For Michael. I told her years ago she is the one who needs to let Michael go. She’s got enough personality for two people; so much that Michael never got a chance to develop his own. We have nothing in common anymore.”

“You’ve been friends for years,” Justin said, shocked.

“Those High School memories and re-enactments of Captain Astro number 276 have become a little stale,” Brian replied. “Especially as Michael’s memories are selective. I’m bored out of my mind when I’m with Ted and Michael. There are quicker ways to die.”

Justin shook his head. “So, that’s Debbie, Ted, Emmett and Michael gone. Who else?”

“Lindsay,” Brian added.

Justin shot a glance at Gus, who was still sleeping sweetly, his thumb in his mouth.

“Not Gus, ever,” Brian said. “He’s mine.”

“I would’ve thought you'd get rid of Mel,” Justin marveled. “Why Linds?”

Brian shrugged. “I suppose you’ll find out, but you won’t find out from me.”

“Phew. Anybody else?”

Brian laughed at him. “Subtle, Justin. Do your own thinking. What do you suppose?”

Justin sighed, looking back at Debbie’s portrait so that Brian wouldn't see his eyes were damp.

Fuck. Why would Brian want him around? He was even more of a loser than Michael. The way this conversation had been going… And on Friday night, Brian had already said he didn't want him anymore.

A rustle, a movement and suddenly, Brian was holding him close. “Fool,” Brian murmured gently, his warm breath tickling his skin. 

Justin took a deep breath, thankful beyond words.

They ended up stretched out on the floor, and Justin felt a lot of his anxiety slip away. He always felt safe in Brian’s arms.

It was familiar, and comforting – his head on Brian’s shoulder, one arm around his waist. Brian's arm circling him, the other hand gently combing into his hair. Shit, he could stay here forever, and never move again.

His restless mind wouldn’t allow it, though. “Did you ever sketch me?”

“Forget it,” Brian said. “No way.”

“Why not?”

He felt Brian shrug. “Because.”

“Because they’re horribly unflattering portraits,” Justin grinned. “Without my cute mask and nice ass, I’m nothing.”

Brian sighed. “Do you ever stop fishing?”

“I’m not fishing. I’m curious.”

“You know what they say about curiosity and cats.”

“I’m no cat.”

“And I’m not about to satisfy your curiosity,” Brian warned.

“Why?”

“Back off.” Now Brian sounded really stern.

Justin tightened his hold, certain that Brian was about to move away. “Doesn’t it bother you to see people like that?”

“Yeah,” Brian snorted. “Reality is a serious bother. You know what to expect.”

“Are you sure that’s the reality?”

“It’s my reality,” Brian said. “I know yours doesn't look like that.”

“It doesn’t? Why not?”

“You like your rose-tinted glasses,” Brian said.

“Didn't you ever wear those?”

He felt Brian shrug again. “I guess everyone does. I don’t remember anymore.”

“You say that about things that happened when you were around fourteen,” Justin murmured. “Did you start seeing people without their mask that early?”

Brian was quiet for a long time, and Justin was already sure he’d get no answer. But finally, Brian said, “It was around then that I realized everybody was a ‘Great Pretender’.”

Fuck. Justin tried to imagine what that must have been like. To see your parents for what they are, and know that you’re stuck with them for at least another four years. What if he had seen Craig for what he was – a homophobic, mean, lame-ass shit? Those father-son days would have been a lot less fun. What if he had seen that his mother was unhappy and discontent? What else could he have seen, and hadn’t?

“Don’t go there, Justin,” Brian murmured. “It wouldn't have changed a thing for you.”

“What did it change for you?”

“I didn’t fall in love with an older man. I knew they wanted me only for my body. I make my own decisions and act on them, because I know I’m the only one I can rely on. I’ve been able to keep most people at arm’s length, because I know that if I don't, sooner or later they’ll kick me in the teeth.”

“Christ, Brian. Is there nothing you believe in?”

“Of course there is,” Brian scoffed. “I believe in myself.”

Justin drew a deep breath. “What about love? You have to believe in love.”

Silence. Then, evenly, “Love is for dreamers, and I’d rather be awake and fucking.”

“But…”

“No but, Justin.”

Don't think, Justin told himself. Just settle down and soak it in. Stay close to him, and keep your big mouth shut. Right now, he doesn't need shit from you. He wants to hold you, so let him. Close your eyes, and pretend you're not even here. You're just a blanket. Give him your warmth, and for once, don’t take anything in return.

After a while, he felt Brian’s tension drain away, and soon, deep, regular breaths told him Brian had fallen asleep.

Justin shifted so that he could hold Brian, remembering how often he had used to do that – wait until Brian was asleep and then draw him into a stolen embrace. Usually, he was careful to let go just before the alarm went off. Still, Brian had never complained on those occasions when he woke up early to find himself in his arms. He had just gently disentangled himself and vanished into the bathroom.

Briefly, Justin wondered whether anybody would miss them. Then again, Gus had said Judson was used to this sort of thing. The room was warm, and cozy. Sunlight poured through the window, dancing on the leaves of the plant on the window-sill. Outside, bees buzzed in the flower beds. It was so peaceful here… 

Brian and Gus were fast asleep, and slowly, Justin gave in to temptation and let himself go.


	15. Fifteen

Shane felt restless. Andrea had prepared a delicious lunch, she always did. To him, the fresh bread had tasted like sawdust, and the salad like hay. Brian had to be out of his mind, putting up with this bunch of freaks for a whole week.

Did Brian really need to take another close look at their many shortcomings before he could finally let them go?

Shane had avoided whiny little Michael at school, had never paid him any attention. Not until Brian Kinney came along, who had adopted Michael like you’d adopt a stray dog. Brian had stood up for Michael, who had been everybody’s punching-bag until then. Soon, Michael was left alone. They had learned quickly that you didn’t mess with Brian Kinney.

Which was why he had become interested in Brian in the first place. Why would anybody risk their status in a new school by standing up for the outcast?

Brian had been some sort of magnet for the outcasts, the runts of the litter, the weirdoes and freaks. They had come together around him like planets caught in the gravitational field of a sun. Within a few short weeks, Brian was the unofficial leader of a rather large group of people. Suddenly, it was in to be out.

The teachers liked the fact that Brian was bright and ambitious. They didn’t like his outspokenness, his readiness to stand up for his rights, and the rights of others. But they put up with it, probably because Brian was always fair. 

Brian excelled at sports; he was the best cross-country runner the school had seen in ages. Even though not really a team-player, Brian did well in team sports, especially when he got to lead the team. Due to his quick tongue, Brian wasn’t popular enough to make captain of the football team, but he was the one the team listened to.

It had taken Shane two months to find out where Brian lived. The house was ugly and looked neglected, but the garden was pretty. Shane hid behind some dumpsters across the street, watching and learning. The father went out at irregular times, the mother went shopping on Mondays, and to church on Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays. Once a week, Brian took care of the garden. Brian and his ugly sister went to school. Brian signed up for any extra-curricular activity going, and Shane instinctively understood that Brian did that so he could stay away from home.

Still wondering how to extend the hand of friendship, Shane had come home one hot summer afternoon to find Brian in their garden, laughing with his sister. They had met in photography classes, and Erin had asked Brian over to take photos together. Erin had the expensive equipment, Brian had the clever ideas. Intrigued, their mother had invited Brian to stay for supper, and naturally, his parents had given him the third degree. Brian had answered calmly, just like he did in school; and Shane had kept quiet, watching.

Clearly, table manners were unimportant in his home, but Brian was clever. He watched Erin, copying her. Shane had thought he was the only one who cottoned on, but later that evening, he had overheard his parents.

“A smart boy,” his father had said.

“And handsome. Shame about his manners,” his mother had replied.

“Yes, but he learns quickly. A few more days with us, and you won’t be able to tell the difference between our kids and him.”

Shane grinned. That had been truer than his father had guessed. When exactly had his parents begun to introduce them as ‘our trio’? Before or after Erin… No. Don't think about that, he told himself. You’ll fall apart, you know you will.

 

Stepping around the corner, he saw Judson in front of the library window, looking in with a wistful expression.

Shane stood still for a moment, looking his fill. Silky blond hair lifting on a light breeze, tight jeans showing off a gorgeous ass, blue T-shirt hugging the contours of his torso…

Fuck, Judson was almost as beautiful as Brian. Unlike Brian, he might become available. Shane felt his mouth go dry. How would Brian feel about that?

Quietly, he walked over to Judson. “What’re you doing?”

“Looking,” Judson said calmly. “Saying good-bye.”

“Prematurely,” Shane replied. “I can’t see Brian going back.”

Judson laughed, softly. “You’re fooling yourself. He’s already gone back. Take a good look.”

Shane did, and sighed.

Brian, fast asleep in Justin’s arms. His head on Justin’s shoulder, his forehead against Justin's cheek and his mouth pressed to Justin's throat, one arm clinging to Justin's waist. Their legs entangled. Justin’s left arm around Brian's shoulders, his other arm circling Brian's chest, holding him close.

“That looks tight,” he commented, feeling his anger rear up again.

Judson grinned. “You really are jealous.”

“And you're not?”

“I am,” Judson shrugged. “Once you get a taste of Brian, you know it’ll never be enough.”

“So go in there and kick the boy toy out.”

“No can do,” Judson said. “Brian needs him.”

“We’ll have to make him forget again,” Shane insisted.

“How often do you want to put Brian through that? Quite apart from the fact that he was never able to forget.”

“Justin will leave again anyway. And Brian will be back to square one.”

“Then it’s up to us. We’ll have to help Justin. Make him stay.”

Shane stared at Judson. “You can't be serious.”

Judson shrugged again. “I want Brian to be happy. I want him to have whatever he needs.”

“Nobody is that altruistic, nobody.”

“Brian is,” Judson sighed. “You know he is. He loves the boy enough to let him go.”

“That's not altruistic,” Shane said angrily. “That’s plain bloody brainless.”

“Shane. Justin is young. He needs time to learn.”

“Learn what? Take what he's given? He already does that just fine.”

Judson shook his head. “Come on, Shane. Forget what you feel. Try to see what Brian feels. With Justin, he can let his guard down. We’ve been together for months, and he doesn't sleep that peacefully in our bed.”

“Sleeping together is not the problem,” Shane retorted. “Being awake together is.”

“Not when they're alone together. The problems start when other people butt in.”

“More specifically, when other people have a tug-of-war over Brian.”

“Yes. You and I, we’re already certain of Brian's affection. We don’t need to fight for it. We can support Brian, and Justin. Help them get it right.”

“You should’ve been a lawyer,” Shane said grudgingly. “Are you willing to give up Brian without a struggle?”

Judson nodded. “Yes.”

“You love him that much?”

“I love Brian. That much.”

“Lucky Brian,” Shane muttered. “What do you suggest?”

“For now, just give them some space; keep those assholes off their backs.”

Shane sighed. “We need to improve our track record. So far, we haven’t been doing too well.”

“You take Ted,” Judson said. “He's intimidated by size, and good looks.”

“Thanks, I needed to hear that last.”

Judson grinned. “Come on. You know I think you're a walking wet dream.”

“No,” Shane swallowed. “I didn't know that.” Maybe, just maybe, he stood a chance?

“I’ll take Michael. I can’t stand the idiot.”

Shane snorted. “You're not alone. Let’s share Debbie.”

“You got it. It’s hard to believe that three people can cause so much havoc.”

“Plus Melanie,” Shane said. He couldn’t make up his mind whether he liked the woman or not.

“No, I think Brian has Melanie under control now. She seemed pretty mellow earlier.”

“Any idea what that is all about? Apart from marital problems?”

Judson lifted one shoulder. “I only know that Gus is desperate to stay here. Every chance he gets, he’s begging Brian not to send him back to Toronto. Oddly enough, he seems more uncomfortable around Lindsay.”

Shane frowned. “But he keeps giving Melanie the evil eye.”

“That’s because she keeps lying to Brian.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Brian mentioned it. And you know he can smell an untruth from a mile off. Gus is learning from him. I’ve heard him twice, telling Debbie that she’s ‘shitting’ him.”

“Cute,” Shane laughed. “He’s becoming as outspoken as his dad.”

“Yes,” Judson nodded. “Without Brian’s ability to keep his mouth shut.”

Shane grinned. “Not to worry. I expect that’s next on the syllabus.”

“Yes, Brian's onto that. He is a terrific father.”

“Anything we really hate about Brian?”

Judson smiled. “Sure. He’s reticent and territorial.”

“Self-sufficient and philanthropic,” Shane added.

“Huh. Cheat. Those are positive qualities,” Judson said.

“I love Brian, too. I’m too close to him; I don’t see the flaws anymore.”

“There aren’t that many flaws. Just a few edges, and he’d be boring without those.”

“He needs to pick better friends. And better lovers.”

“Gee, thanks,” Judson laughed heartily.

“Not you,” Shane said hastily. “The boy toy.”

“The boy toy isn’t so bad,” Judson said. “Give the kid a chance.”

“If you say his heart is in the right spot, I’ll strangle you,” Shane warned.

Judson shook his head. “You have to like him. For Brian.”

“That’s a tall order,” Shane protested.

“It’s not. You dislike Justin on Brian's behalf. It’s not as if Brian is completely without fault. From what I gather, the last two times he could’ve made Justin stay.”

Shane shrugged. “That’s just not Brian. When the little stinker left him for the fiddler, Brian told me that loving somebody means wanting the best for them. Which was why he set him free.”

Judson grinned triumphantly. “Pushover!”

“Yeah, yeah. I hear you. Love somebody, let them go. Reckon he’ll come back to you?”

“No, he won’t. Even if it doesn’t work out.”

“I feel like stamping my foot here, you know. Why the fuck does he want the twinkie back when he’s got better right here?”

“Aw, come now. That’s the easy question. Brian loves you, me, and a host of other people. In a chary, restrained way. What he feels for Justin is unreserved. Like a force of nature.”

Shane sighed. “Odd. Leda said something like that, about them being a force of nature together.”

Nodding, Judson said, “I think that’s what brings Brian back to Justin all the time. For the first time in his adult life, he relinquished control and surrendered to his feelings. Being able to do that is probably a bigger high than sex and drugs.”

“I still don’t get it. Justin hurts him.”

Judson shrugged. “Pain is a feeling, too. Brian has lived without deep emotion for so long that he’ll even take the hurt, just to know he can still feel.”

“But Justin can’t be trusted.”

“Wrong, Shane,” Judson sighed. “He's done his own thing, and Brian doesn’t have a problem with that. He encouraged it. The one thing Justin hasn’t done, he’s never used Brian’s feelings against him, the way Debbie and Michael do. That’s why Brian trusts him.”

“What a mess,” Shane said, feeling exhausted. “Why can’t things ever be easy?”

“Easy,” Judson laughed, “easy isn’t the Kinney way.”

“You got that right,” Shane admitted. “It's not. Are you sure about Brian?”

“I’m sure,” Judson said calmly. “I’m leaving when the party’s over.”

“Does Brian know that?”

Judson shook his head. “Not yet. I need a quiet moment.”

“I’m sorry, Judson. I really am.”

“Don’t be. I told Carl the other night, when it’s time for the wind to go, he’ll go. I’m determined to make it as painless for Brian as I can.”

“You’re a generous man.”

“I was lucky. This was one of the best years of my life. I knew from the start it wouldn't last.”

“Why start,” Shane asked, genuinely interested.

Judson laughed. “Hello? This is Brian Kinney we’re talking about. I was happy to take a one-night stand. The second night was priceless, and when I realized I could get more, I took time out to think this through. Even though, there wasn’t anything to think about. I knew then it would be worth it, and it was.”

“You could’ve spent that time with somebody who was in it for the long haul,” Shane said.

“If he comes along now, I’ll be ready. I wasn’t before. I didn’t know how much I was prepared to give, and I had no idea how much I can take. Living with Brian has taught me a lot about myself. I’ll be a better partner for Mr. Long-Haul.”

Only half joking, Shane said, “Let me know when to get in line.”

Judson shot him a quick look, with more surprise than anything else. He grinned. “You’re top of the list. If you're interested.”

“I’m interested,” Shane said, serious now.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Judson smiled, and then added earnestly, “I’ll need time. Getting over Brian won't be easy.”

Shane nodded, suddenly hopeful. “I hear you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Judson linked his arm through his. “Let’s go back. We need to keep an eye on the hooligans.”

 

Sitting under a large sunshade with Tucker, Jennifer relaxed on one of Brian’s comfortable deck-chairs. She had brought a book, but the warm sunshine made her too lazy to read. She looked over at the group splashing in the pool. Michael and Ted, and Emmett and Calvin were having a competition, and none of them were very good swimmers.

Daphne was sitting alone with Matt, also under a sunshade, holding hands and whispering to each other. Jennifer remembered moments like that with Craig, when she was expecting Justin. How they had looked forward to that boy, and how Craig had ended up treating him!

Lindsay was sitting alone at the bar, pouring herself drink after drink. Melanie was teaching JR to dress one of her dolls, all her attention focused on the little girl.

Jim, Ken and Dave were getting tan, and Carl had joined their group with Ben and Blake.

Leda and Molly were having another one of their intense discussions, looking at photos on Leda’s notebook.

Debbie had gone to bed, claiming she had a headache. Nobody seemed to feel too sympathetic, certainly not Carl, who had just reminded her that her pills were in her handbag.

And where were the others?

Jennifer watched Judson and Shane walk toward the pool area at a leisurely pace, and wondered where Brian and Justin had gone. Even with a house this size, you never had any real privacy. Jennifer felt that Brian was putting way too much pressure on himself by inviting this many people.

Judson gestured at the bar, and Shane nodded and sat down next to her and Tucker.

“He’s with Brian. In the library,” Shane said.

Tucker nodded. “They have a lot to talk about.”

Shane made a face. “Right now, they’re sleeping it off.”

Jennifer raised her brows. “Sleeping what off, Shane?”

“Gus is with them. So, nothing untoward.”

“You don't like Justin,” Jennifer stated.

Shane shrugged. “I have a problem with him. Sorry, Jen, but I don’t think your son is the innocent victim of Brian’s machinations.”

“If anything, Brian is the victim of Justin’s machinations,” Jennifer sighed.

Judson joined them, carrying a tray with a pitcher of ice, a carafe of orange juice and several glasses.

“We’ve been over that,” he said, a little sharply. “Why don’t you all back off and see what happens?”

Tucker raised an eyebrow. “Are you giving Brian up?”

Judson shrugged. “Are you that blind? The second he saw Justin again, Brian was gone.”

“He’d stay with you, if you…” Jennifer caught her breath.

“Don’t start, Jen,” Judson smiled at her.

“You’re nuts,” Tucker said. “Don’t let go without a fight. You're good together.”

Judson sighed. “You don’t understand. There’s nothing to fight for. If I did, I’d hurt Brian. I mean it. Let them do their own thing. Don’t comment. There’ll be enough comments aimed at them from the cheap seats.”

Jennifer sighed. She liked Judson, and she liked how Brian was with him. She wasn’t sure she liked Brian quite that much when he was with Justin. With Judson, Brian was at peace, and with Justin, he seemed like a loose cannon.

“I don’t want them back together,” she admitted. “Justin will only end up hurting Brian again.”

“It’s not our decision,” Judson said categorically. “Stay out of it, Jennifer. Brian won’t thank you for interfering. Or Justin, for that matter.”

Carl settled on the grass next to them, lifting his beer bottle to his lips. “I overheard Brian on Friday; he said he doesn’t want Justin back.”

Judson laughed. “He probably said that to Justin, and they both knew he was lying through his teeth.”

Carl sighed. “So, you’re leaving Brian?”

“Technically, he’s leaving me,” Judson said. “Don’t talk about it, please. I’d rather be the first to tell Brian.”

“I thought I was getting the hang of this gay thing,” Carl shook his head. “Clearly, I’m not.”

Jennifer smiled at him. She liked the sharp detective. “I’m not getting it, either. And I’m related to one of them!”

“I don’t think it's a gay thing,” Shane said. “Most gay guys are run of the mill, just like most heteros. You’re either monogamous, or you’re not.”

Tucker grinned. “You saying this is a Brian-Justin thing?”

“I guess. I don’t know anybody else who is on this self-destructive course they’ve set for themselves.” Shane shrugged.

“I think it’s other people setting the course for them,” Carl commented. “From what I’ve seen, they’re about to get it right, and then somebody comes along and throws a spanner in the works.”

“That’s an interesting observation,” Shane said. “Who is this somebody?”

Carl nodded over at the group in the pool. “The lost boys and their mother. Sometimes, it’s Wendy over there.” He jutted his chin at Lindsay, who was in the process of pouring herself another glass. “Without Peter Pan, Never-never-land is no fun.”

Judson frowned. “Is that the bottle I opened for her before lunch?”

Jennifer grinned. “No. She’s on her second bottle.”

“Phew. Jack Daniels seems like a real good friend to that lady,” Judson raised his eyebrows.

“More like, she drinks like a fish,” Tucker said. “I wouldn’t want my kid near her, that’s for sure.”

Shane sighed. “Does anybody have any fairy-dust on hand?”

Jennifer burst out laughing, and after a stunned second, so did everybody else. Shane looked at them for a moment, and then joined in the laughter.

“What’s so funny,” Brian asked, approaching them with Gus and Justin. All three looked bright and relaxed, Jennifer noted.

“I was asking about fairy-dust,” Shane grinned.

Pulling up a deck-chair, Brian scoffed. “Now, if you’d said angel-dust, I might be able to help you out. Whom did you want to send up in the air?”

“I have a few ideas,” Shane said.

“I saw you looking at Linds,” Brian said, sitting down. “She on the list?”

“Afraid so, along with a few others.”

Brian grinned. “Never-never-land is too good for them. Let’s put them in a rocket and send them to Mars.”

“Not your mom,” Jennifer quickly reassured Gus.

Gus shrugged. “She should go first.”

Jennifer actually felt her eyes widen at the comment and looked at Brian for guidance. Brian had pulled his lips into his mouth, and shook his head at her.

“Why is that, sonny-boy,” Brian asked casually.

“Mars is better than Europe,” Gus said, taking a deep breath. “Can I get a drink, Daddy?”

“I’ve got a clean glass here, if you want orange juice,” Judson said.

Gus beamed at him. “Great, thank you.”

“I’ll get some guava juice,” Justin said. “You want some, Brian?”

Brian nodded. “Yes, please. Avoid the Jack Daniels devotee; she’s already reached her howling stage.”

Gus giggled. “Do you hate when she does that, too?”

Brian nodded. “I guess most guys hate when women do that.”

“Do guys howl?”

Brian grinned. “Some do. That’s even worse!”

“I bet,” Gus said. “Do you know a howler?”

“Yes,” Brian smirked. “So do you, but I don’t think you’ve seen him at his worst yet.”

Gus turned and stared at the pool. “Michael or Ted?”

Brian laughed. “You’re good, Gus. Both, actually.”

Gus turned back and smiled at Brian. “I think I’ll go to bed when they start drinking.”

Jennifer was trying hard to smother her laughter, but it was becoming more and more difficult.

“Let it out, Jen, we don’t want you to choke,” Brian grinned at her.

Justin returned with two large glasses of juice and handed one to Brian, sitting next to him on the deck chair.

“Somebody will need to tuck Lindsay into bed soon,” he said.

Brian shrugged. “Not my problem, fortunately.”

“Mom Mel won’t do it,” Gus said. “She just lets her sleep on the floor.”

Jennifer watched as Brian pushed his tongue into his cheek. He sometimes did that when he was making a decision, she had seen it before.

“How often has that happened, Gus?”

“Often,” Gus replied. “A few times a week since Sam came to Toronto.”

“And Sam came to Toronto in March, right?”

Gus nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

Brian watched Lindsay, his lips pulled into his mouth. Finally, he got up. “Excuse me a minute, guys.”

Brian walked past Lindsay into the house.

Jennifer watched Gus. 

The little boy’s eyes were on his father; he had put his glass down and had crossed his fingers, muttering, “Please, oh please. Pretty please! I’ll be good, I swear. No more throwing balls in the living room, I promise. I won’t eyeball Mom Mel. And I won’t fight with JR anymore, either. Oh please, please!”

Justin looked at the kid, and Jennifer was surprised at the warmth in his eyes. Gently, Justin reached out and uncrossed the boy’s fingers. “You’ll be fine, Gus. I’m sure you’ll get what you want.”

Gus looked up at Justin questioningly, and then climbed into his lap. “What makes you think that, Justin?”

Justin hugged the boy, and smoothed his hair. “I know your dad. Did he know before just how much your mom is drinking?”

Gus shook his head. “I had promised not to tell. And I didn’t tell, but he’s seen her drink all the time.”

Justin nodded. “Don’t worry. Your dad will look after you.”

Brian returned, a grim set to his mouth. “Can I borrow my son a minute, Justin?”

“Sure,” Justin smiled at Brian, lifted Gus up to him and patted Brian's leg.

Brian walked away with his boy, and Justin sighed, shaking his head.

“Why does it matter that Lindsay drinks,” Tucker asked, sounding bewildered. “She doesn't hurt the kids, does she?”

“Mel would rip off her arm if she tried,” Justin said firmly.

“Brian doesn’t like a lush,” Shane said.

Carl tilted his head. “He drinks.”

Shane nodded. “Sure, he does. But he doesn't get drunk. Tipsy, maybe. High, yes. But not drunk, unless he’s mad with pain.”

“Why is that?”

“Because Jack was a drunken old bastard,” Shane said.

There was none of the fire in his voice that Jennifer would have expected. Actually, Shane sounded – dull?

Justin stared into his juice, and Jennifer knew he was doing his best to keep his thoughts to himself.

“Jack was a nice man,” Debbie said.

Jennifer looked up at her, startled. She hadn’t seen her approaching. Then she looked across at Shane, who stared at Debbie.

“Yeah, swell,” he said. “What the fuck makes you think he was nice?”

Debbie shrugged. “You didn’t know the family. The woman is a shrew; any guy would’ve wanted a tipple every now and then.”

“Yeah,” Brian said coldly, returning without the boy. “Every Friday and Saturday when he was working, and every day of the week when he wasn’t. And my mother was on the bottle because she couldn’t stand how nice he was when he was around, right?”

“Where’s Gus,” Justin asked.

Brian actually smiled at him, Jennifer saw.

“He wanted to be alone for a while.”

“You were just a kid, Brian. You didn’t understand any of what was going on,” Debbie said.

Brian’s eyes narrowed, and the smile had vanished as soon as Debbie had started to speak. “I was living there, Debbie. I saw what went down.”

“If it was that bad, you would’ve told me,” Debbie contradicted confidently.

“Tell you?” Brian sounded incredulous. “I might as well have taken out an ad in the Post-Gazette!”

“I never talk about your secrets to anybody,” Debbie angrily defended herself.

Brian snorted. “Of course you don't. I guess my mother doesn’t count!”

“She needed to know, Brian. She came to see you, didn’t she?”

Jennifer had the impression Brian had just catapulted himself away from them. Only his body was still here. His stance changed slightly, his shoulders pulled back and his face became expressionless.

“She did,” Brian said, his voice flat. “Came to see me at work. You have no idea how much I appreciated that.”

Justin put his glass down and got up. “Brian. I need to talk to you. Now.” 

He smiled at Debbie, brightly. Jennifer wondered whether she was the only one who suddenly thought of wolves. “Sorry, Deb, but I’ve been waiting for ages.”

Brian was looking at Justin, his face still impassive; eyebrow on the rise in question.

Justin hooked two fingers behind Brian's waistband and pulled him away. After a split second of hesitation, Brian fell into step with him.

Jennifer shook her head, amazed. 

Shane’s eyes followed them, his expression pensive. Judson was smiling to himself.

“What was that all about,” Debbie asked grumpily. “Why does that boy keep running away from me today?”

“You know Brian,” Carl said. “The man can’t sit still for longer than five minutes.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Debbie grinned. “Got some beer left?”

Carl shook his head. “Just finished it. I was about to get myself another bottle. Coming with me?”

Debbie nodded. “I haven’t seen Michael all day, anyway.”

Jennifer watched them walk away, shaking her head. “Only at breakfast, after breakfast…”

“Before lunch, at lunch, after lunch,” Tucker grinned.

“And she’ll see him at dinner, and unfortunately, so will we,” Judson laughed.

“Don’t remind me,” Shane said. “Can’t Brian at least teach him to eat in a civilized manner?”

“He told me he’s given up. Fifteen years ago,” Tucker said. “Was Jack really that bad?”

Shane shrugged. “I don’t know that many fathers, really. Comparing him to my own father – my father was a saint, and Jack was the devil in disguise.”

“How come Debbie doesn't see that,” Jennifer wanted to know.

“It didn’t fit in with her view of the world. Any kid who does have a father just has to be better off than her poor little orphan boy. Never mind if the kid says it isn’t so.”

Jennifer frowned. “Maybe she could have helped him, if she had known.”

Shane shook his head. “You heard Brian. She would have gone straight to his mother, and Brian would have been in trouble. And he probably figured he already had enough trouble.”

“But you were friends. Didn’t your parents know?”

“They knew, Jen. And more than once, they wanted to intervene. Brian wouldn't let them, not after the first time.”

Tucker laid a hand on his arm, and Jennifer realized that Shane had begun to shiver. “What happened?”

Shane shook his head, and jumped up. “I can’t. Can’t talk about it. I’m going for a run.”

Judson watched him take off, and shook his head. “The way this group diminishes, you’d think there was something wrong with us.”

Tucker sighed. “It’s not us. It’s Brian.”

Judson narrowed his eyes at him. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Brian.”

“Not now,” Tucker said. “When they were kids. That’s when it all started. And I have a feeling Brian intends for it to end, sometime soon. He’s had enough of this lot.”

Judson studied him for a long moment. “How do you figure that?”

Tucker shrugged. “He invited them, but now they’re here he can't wait to get away from them. He hardly spends time with any of his so-called old friends.”

Judson nodded. “He hasn’t said anything to me. He never does. But I have the same feeling. If it comes to that, will you please help me?”

“Of course we’ll help you,” Jennifer said immediately. “What do you want us to do?”

“Support Brian. Support Justin. Don’t let them get to them again. Make sure Brian knows we agree with his decisions.”

Tucker nodded. “You got it. Even if we don’t.”

“Thanks, guys,” Judson sipped his orange juice. “This is going to be a much more interesting week than I thought it would be.”

“And we all know how Brian hates interesting,” Jennifer added.


	16. Sixteen

Looking over his shoulder to make sure they were out of sight, Justin let go of Brian’s waistband and slipped an arm around his waist instead. Relieved, he felt Brian’s arm about his shoulders, pulling him closer.

“Is Gus okay,” Justin asked.

Brian nodded. “I spoke to my lawyer. I’m keeping Gus.”

“Legally, you mean,” Justin said.

“Yes. When I gave up my parental rights to Gus, I also gave up any legal obligation to support him financially. But Lindsay kept coming to me for money, and you know I never said no.”

“No,” Justin agreed. “Not even during the Kip Thomas crisis, when you were left with thirty-three dollars and forty-five cents after giving her a check for day-care. I never knew day-care cost that much!”

Brian snorted a laugh. “You remember that? That was before I signed my boy away.”

“Of course I do. So, having given Lindsay money even after signing that fucking piece of paper, what can you do?”

“It was all about good faith and all that – I mean, I even kept up with the payments on the life insurance. I shouldn’t have had to.”

“That was one expensive foreskin,” Justin grinned.

Brian shrugged. “I’m glad Mel had JR with Michael. Michael still has his parental rights, but he doesn't contribute to life in lesbo land. Doesn't even pay for tuition, or anything. Now I can claim equal rights. Tom has it in hand.”

“You want to cut out Mel,” Justin frowned.

“Not Mel, Lindsay.”

Justin shook his head. “I don't understand how you can do that.”

“Actually, it was Melanie who gave me the idea,” Brian said.

“Melanie? I thought you hated each other.”

Brian smirked, but said nothing.

Justin sighed. “You are complicated.”

“Complex,” Brian contradicted.

“And resourceful,” Justin smiled.

“So are you,” Brian smiled back. “My slayer of dragons and evil fag hags.”

Justin laughed. “I didn’t slay anybody. I wanted to, but as you are so opposed to violence… I only took you away from the wicked witch.”

Brian squeezed his shoulders. “I always liked that about you.”

“Liked what?”

“You act, when everybody else still thinks about it.”

“I learned that from you,” Justin shrugged. “You got Ted a job at the agency, while Michael and Emmett were still wondering how to stop him having cyber-sex.”

Brian shuddered dramatically. “Don't remind me.”

Justin laughed. “Was it really that bad?”

“Worse,” Brian wrinkled his nose. “Used condoms and tissues all over the place. He never even opened a window. Small wonder all his plants were dying!”

“Ugh,” it was Justin's turn to wrinkle his nose. “Gross.”

“Rather,” Brian agreed.

They kept walking in companionable silence for long minutes. When they reached a branch in the path, Brian stopped. “Which way, Justin?”

Justin tilted his head. “Up there is the formal garden with all the aromas, right?”

“The 'scenterprise',” Brian grinned.

Justin groaned and laughed. “That’s so bad it's good, Brian. What’s down there?”

Brian shrugged and set off in the direction Justin had indicated. “Why don’t we find out?”

Justin was glad he hadn’t wandered off into this area of the park by himself. Tall hedges either side of the path made him feel claustrophobic, a feeling that was enhanced by the huge trees growing closely behind the hedge.

Brian pulled him nearer, and Justin realized he had sensed his unease. 

“The hedges are not as tight as they look, Justin. You can walk right through them. I had them planted as a visual barrier for the wildlife. I didn’t want JR get run over by a stag.”

Justin sighed. “How do you always know what I’m thinking?”

“I don’t. Maybe if I did, we’d not have so many misunderstandings.” Brian heaved a sigh of his own.

“I’ve been thinking,” Justin said, waiting for Brian to say something snarky. Brian didn’t.

After a moment, Justin continued, “I think I’ve been listening to too many people. And somewhere along the line, I stopped paying attention to what you were doing.”

Brian nodded. “We’ve both been guilty of the first. I don’t quite get what you’re trying to say with the second.”

Frowning, Justin tried to explain. “I mean, when we first met, I looked at the things you were doing. With you, actions do speak louder than words. Later, I got confused.”

Brian sighed again. “And now, you’re confusing me. Did I stop doing things you liked?”

“No,” Justin shook his head. “People were telling me you should be doing certain things for me, because that’s what they wanted for themselves. So, I was waiting for you to do something other than what you were actually doing.”

Brian was quiet for a moment, then shook his head. “Was that supposed to make sense, Justin?”

Justin snorted. “It makes sense to me.”

“Less words, more to the point, please,” Brian said, his voice stern.

But Justin was back to reading Brian, and he sensed his amusement. “You sound like Mr. McGee.”

“And who is Mr. McGee, may I ask,” Brian shook his head in exaggerated exasperation.

“My English teacher at St James,” Justin explained.

“Ah,” Brian said. “He was onto you, was he?”

“I guess,” Justin grinned. “Will you get sore if I give you an example?”

Brian pushed his tongue into his cheek. “I can't promise that. But I can promise that I’m not going to run away.”

“Good enough,” Justin sighed. “The Rage party?”

Brian grimaced. “If you must.”

“The first thing that comes to mind,” Justin shrugged. “Okay. Looking back, I can see that I was aware you weren’t comfortable with Rage. And at the time, I thought you were jealous that Michael and I were collaborating. So, throwing that party was a really loving thing to do, because you didn’t agree with what I was doing, but you supported me anyway. I know you wouldn't have gone to such lengths if it had been just Michael. If I had paid attention to you, and not to the nonsense everybody was spouting, I would have thought it was hilarious that you were fucking Rage.”

Justin chuckled. Yes, that was so like Brian. Why had he missed the implications then?

Brian shrugged. “I shouldn’t have.”

“I didn't get it then. But I’m getting it now. Which doesn’t mean I understand it.”

“Elucidate?” Brian raised an eyebrow at him and turned a corner in the hedge. 

Surprised, Justin found himself on the banks of a small glittering river that hurried over sparkling pebbles. Bluebells and celandine grew everywhere. A small wooden bench stood on one side. Brian opened the box next to it and took out a thick cushion. It went over the back and the seat of the bench, and Brian sat down and patted the place next to him.

Justin shook his head, grinning. “You really don’t believe in roughing it, do you?”

“I’ve done enough of that,” Brian said. “Sit!”

Justin sat next to Brian, and without conscious thought, swung his legs up on the seat and leaned against Brian’s shoulder. Brian drew him closer, supporting his back.

“What are you getting, but not understanding?”

Justin sighed. He had half hoped he was off the hook. “I get that you were pushing me away. I don’t understand why you did that.”

“You were fucking Ian. More than once. I thought you’d make up your mind, but you didn’t. I didn’t want you to do it with me just because you happened to be living with me. So, I decided to give you a reason to make up your mind.”

“But I made up my mind the wrong way, didn’t I.”

“Did you? Ian was about your age, and he was giving you what you wanted.”

Justin snorted. “Ethan. He said he would give me what I wanted, but he didn't actually do it.”

Brian remained silent.

“The thing about the breeders? Saying they’re in love so they can get laid? Saying anything so they get what they want? That’s a lesson you wanted to teach me, right?”

Brian’s hold tightened. “No. Certainly not like that. I believed Ethan was going to be good for you, good to you. Otherwise I wouldn’t have let you go.”

Justin snuggled closer to Brian. “Why did you tell Ethan to sign that contract?”

“It was a chance for him, Justin. A big chance, maybe his biggest. Even you must have heard that he wasn't quite the genius he thought he was? When he was tired, or irritated, he sometimes played the wrong notes. I heard it when he was playing on the street. He was arrogant, thought that kind of audience didn't matter. A true artist doesn't think like that. They always give their best. If he had missed that chance, he would have hated you, because you would have been the reason. I don’t want anybody to hate you.”

Justin thought he heard the unspoken words. Not after the way Chris Hobbs hated you.

Twisting so he could look at Brian, Justin grinned. “And of course, you could stop worrying that I was starving to death.”

Brian shrugged. “Your mother wouldn’t have let you starve. I was more worried about your ability to buy art supplies.”

For a long moment, Justin sat still, staring into the merrily bubbling water. There it was again. The man said he didn’t believe in love, yet he did loving things that nobody else even considered doing.

Justin took his legs off the seat and sat up straight, looking at Brian. Slowly, giving Brian time to pull away, he leaned forward. He pressed his lips to Brian’s mouth, softly, gently.

Brian’s eyes drifted shut, and Justin felt him inhale and relax into his hold. 

Brian wanted this, wanted it badly. 

And this once, he was letting him know.

 

“I told you he was getting it,” Ted’s triumphant tone made Brian flinch.

Justin drew back, aware of what those words were doing to Brian.

“And what are you doing in this neck of the woods, Ted? Looking for nymphs?” Justin was glad he managed to keep his anger out of his voice.

“Yeah,” Michael said, his voice furious. “And we even found some.”

Brian got to his feet, stretching lazily. “That’s fairies to you guys.” He folded the cushion back up and put it in the box again.

“Aren’t you staying here,” Michael asked, sounding incredulous.

“No, you ruined the mood.” Brian grinned maliciously.

“What mood was that,” Ted said. “You’re always in the mood for fucking.”

“I usually am, Theodore,” Brian agreed silkily. “It may have escaped your attention that we weren’t fucking, though.”

“You were getting there,” Michael said.

“Were we,” Brian said. “Where do you think this is getting you?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I’ll give you time to figure it out,” Brian took Justin’s wrist and pulled him away.

 

“What’s their problem,” Justin asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

Brian shrugged. “I’ll give you three guesses, and the first two don’t count.”

Justin thought, then stopped dead in his tracks. “No way. Brian! That’s disgusting.”

“Isn’t it,” Brian agreed.

Justin fell back into step with him. What had they been doing? More to the point, what had he been doing? Where was this supposed to be going? He knew what he wanted, but he had no idea whether it was possible to get it.

Next to him, his arm back around his shoulders, Brian sighed. “Can we postpone this until I get back?”

Justin squeezed his waist. “You go and do whatever you have to do, for whatever reason you have to do it. I’ll be here.”

Much to his relief, Brian returned the squeeze.

 

Approaching the patio, Justin saw that the catering service had arrived, and were busily preparing a vast selection of appetizers, salads, side selections and main entrees. The scents wafting over to them were enticing, and in response, his stomach growled.

Brian laughed softly. “I’m glad you’re hungry again. You’re really thin.”

“And you're downright skinny. I’ll eat if you do.”

Brian looked at him, his gaze thoughtful. “Who have you been talking to?”

Justin shrugged, and tightened his grip on Brian’s slim waist. “What’s that, 27 inches? Or are you down to 26?”

Brian snorted. “All right, all right. I’ll eat.”

Justin smiled to himself. Almost back to normal.

“I’ll go wash my hands,” Brian said. “You coming with?”

“Sure,” Justin said immediately. One up on Michael, who didn’t get to use Brian’s bathroom.


	17. Seventeen

Jennifer licked her lips in anticipation. Gourmet Affairs Catering, Brian had to be out of his mind. A real feast.

She put some hot crab dip with toasted almonds and bread on her plate, and added a few crab stuffed mushrooms with cheese. Tucker decided on bacon-wrapped scallops with honey-mustard sauce.

Just then, Brian and Justin joined them, both opting for the smoked salmon with Dijon-honey sauce.

Gus asked for some of the fresh fruit that was on display in a carved melon, and Brian quickly filled a plate for him. JR pulled at Brian's trousers, pointing at Gus's plate and demanding, “Me, too! Ravenous, roar!” 

“And now we'll teach you to use those long words in whole sentences, right, JR?” Brian laughed and began to fill a bowl for her.

JR stretched, trying to get some fruit for herself. Grinning, Brian moved the melon closer so that she could get a slice of peach. Michael made a grab for the same slice, slapping the little girl's hand away and hastily stuffing the peach into his mouth. JR looked at her hand, then up at Michael, her eyes slowly filling with tears.

“Christ, Michael, you're such a cormorant!” Before anybody else had a chance to react, Brian had set down the plate, shoved Michael out of the way and swept up the child. “Here, JR, let me look. I really think you need some ice on that.”

“It was just a slap,” Michael said sulkily. “Don't make a fuss, JR.”

Brian glared at him, but then turned his attention back to the kid.

Her lower lip trembling, JR tilted her head. “Ice,” she asked doubtfully.

“Yes, of course. Ice,” Brian said cheerfully, winking. “Vanilla or strawberry, sweetheart?”

Tears still in her eyes, JR beamed. “Ice-cream? Strawberry!” She tried to wink as well, but only managed to squeeze both eyes shut. Her smile widened when Brian pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

Grinning, Brian took the Popsicle the server gave him and unwrapped it before handing it to the girl. “There you go, JR. Go and sit down, I'll bring you your fruit.”

JR skipped to the table, happily licking her ice-cream. Melanie patted the seat next to her, and JR went over to sit next to her mother. “Dada hit me,” Jennifer heard.

“I saw that,” Melanie sighed. “He won't do it again, JR, I promise.”

“I got ice-cream,” JR explained sagely. “From my nice dada. All better now!” 

Brian turned to Michael. “You hit a child again, I hit you. And you'll be needing more than just ice, I swear.”

Michael shrugged. “No big deal, look. She's already laughing again. Anyway, I didn't hit her that hard.”

Brian's frown deepened. “It's a big deal to me. Don't do that again!”

“Don't kick up such a fuss, Brian,” Debbie said. “Everybody hits their kids every now and then.”

“I don't,” Brian said categorically. “And you don't, not on my turf.”

Michael shrugged. “That was my peach. She shouldn't be so greedy.”

Brian stared at him, and Jennifer wondered what went on in his head. He was looking at Michael with a very curious expression, a mixture of surprise and resignation.

“I'm sorry, Bri, Mel,” Ben said. “I can't take him anywhere.”

“No,” Brian said. “I can see that. He's quite the embarrassment.”

“Don't you talk about my boy like that,” Debbie bristled.

“Better stay out of it. Let's go sit down,” Carl said, apologetically lifting his shoulders at Brian.

Brian shrugged and went back to filling JR's bowl for her. He added a lot of peaches, Jennifer noted.

Amused, Jennifer watched Justin balancing their plates to the table, while Brian took JR her food before sitting down. Gus settled next to Brian, giving Michael the evil eye while munching slowly. The boy seemed a little quiet to her, but well content. Whatever had been bothering him, Brian had obviously taken care of it.

Michael had followed Brian, but clearly, the seat he wanted had been taken. He hovered, then reluctantly joined a frowning Carl and his mother.

Motioning for her to follow, Tucker sat opposite Brian. Jennifer sat next to her husband, facing her son.

Looking at Justin, Jennifer saw some sparkle that she had missed in him. It hadn't been present since before the bombing, but now it was back full force. She looked across at Brian, who was talking to Gus in an undertone. Oh, damn. The same sparkle. Had they, or hadn’t they?

Jennifer shook herself. Did she really want to know?

“Stay put,” Justin said when they were finished with their appetizers. “I’ll get it. Chicken Florentine and spinach salad, hold the dressing. Right?”

“Right,” Brian grinned at him. “Thanks.”

Shane left Justin’s empty chair alone and sat in the next one over, smirking across at Brian, without saying anything. Brian raised an expressive eyebrow, and a moment later, they were both laughing.

Jennifer shook her head. She didn’t have any friends left from school, but sometimes she saw the same easy understanding between Daphne and Justin. Must be nice to know somebody that long, she mused. And then realized that this ease didn’t exist between Brian and Michael. Had it ever?

Justin returned with two plates, his own filled with Jamaican Jerk chicken and tropical salsa, and some seafood fettuccine Alfredo. 

Brian grimaced. “That combination is an affront, Justin. Couldn’t you at least have used two plates?”

Justin grinned. “I could have. It would still have all ended up in the same stomach, though.”

“He knew he was going to offend your sensibilities,” Shane grinned. “He wanted to get a rise out of you.”

“He already had that, down by the river,” Ted said. “Right, Brian?”

Brian sighed. “Theodore. You’re spoiling my appetite with your inappropriate innuendo and inaccurate assumptions.”

“You forget, I saw it all.”

Brian looked at Ted, his face blank. “If you had, you’d not talk such twaddle.”

“You were all over Justin,” Michael said accusingly.

Surprising Jennifer, both Justin and Brian burst out laughing. Judson and Shane looked at each other and smiled widely.

“Case in point,” Justin said between giggling fits. “By the way, what were you doing down there, all by your little selves?”

“We were following you,” Michael said.

“I’m in dire need of a dummy detector,” Brian muttered.

“Are you calling my boy a dummy,” Debbie asked angrily.

“If the fuck-you pump fits, slip it on,” Emmett said cheerfully, pulling up a chair while Calvin went to get their food. “Oops. Sorry, Gus.”

“Emmett,” Brian said sharply.

Gus shrugged. “I know what that is. And a butt-plug, too.”

Jennifer watched as Brian’s eyes narrowed angrily. His tone was even, though, when he asked, “And just how do you know that, sonny-boy.”

Gus shrugged again, slanting a look at his father. “Michael explained it to me. Showed me, too.”

Clearly incredulous, Brian stared at Michael. “You did what?”

It was Michael’s turn to shrug. “He asked.”

Brian frowned. “Why would he ask? Why did you ask, Gus?”

“He probably overheard your dirty talk,” Debbie said and turned to Mel. “I told you not to leave Brian alone with the children. He has a really filthy mouth.”

“No, not my daddy. I heard Michael say that the butt-plug he had up his ass was really uncomfortable, and that Ted owed him a good long round with the pump,” Gus said casually. 

The bright hazel eyes were wicked though, and Jennifer saw the same expression that Brian sometimes had, when he threw something into a conversation just to see how people would react. Had the boy been waiting for his chance to land Michael in it? Why, though? 

Justin put a hand on Brian’s arm, and by the whitening of his knuckles, Jennifer knew there was pressure behind it.

Ben looked from Michael to Ted and back. The truth was unmistakable, both men looked very uncomfortable.

“Is that offer still on the table, Brian,” Ben asked, his tone unnaturally calm.

“It’s yours, I told you,” Brian said warmly, his eyes on Ben. 

Jennifer thought she saw deep sympathy and a vast amount of empathy in his darkening hazel eyes.

Ben wrenched his wedding-ring off his finger and tossed it at Michael, who caught it by reflex. “I’m getting a divorce.”

“Ben. You can’t do that,” Debbie said desperately. “Just because he made one lousy mistake.”

Brian exchanged a deep look with Ben, and then said, “It’s a lousy mistake he made more than once. Let it go, Debbie.”

Debbie turned and stared at Brian. “It’s always you, isn’t it. You destroy every chance my boy has of being happy.”

Jennifer watched as Brian leaned back in his chair, pulling his arm out from under Justin’s hand. He twisted his wrist and interlaced their fingers instead. “Me, Debbie? What did I do?”

“You slept with Ben,” Debbie said.

Brian snorted. “Yeah. At a White Party, two years before he even met Michael.”

“But you knew Michael.”

Brian snorted again. “You never told me that potential partners for Michael were off limits.”

“Well, they should’ve been.”

“Debbie.” Ben sighed. “Will you leave Brian alone? I’m dumping your son because he’s been making it with Ted for the last six months, and neither had the guts to come out in the open.”

“You should have just fucked somebody else at Babylon and let me walk in on you,” Michael said nastily. “Then it would have been in the open. That’s Brian’s solution, right, Brian? Like with Ethan.”

Brian exchanged a glance with Justin, and Justin smiled indulgently. Jennifer wondered what they had been talking about when they came across Ted and Michael.

Surprising her, Dave and Ken got up and stood behind Justin and Brian. 

“Does anybody else notice how this is suddenly all about Brian,” Dave said, sounding amused. “Again.”

Ken put his hands on Brian’s shoulders. “We won’t let you go there again, precious. You’re not taking the blame just because Debbie won’t let her little boy grow up. Michael, you fucked up. It’s your fault, and it's your problem. Deal with it. And stay the hell away from Brian.”

“And while we’re at it,” Dave added, “stay away from Justin, too.”

Michael jumped up. “You can’t keep me away from Brian. Brian belongs to me.”

The announcement was met with sudden silence. Everybody stared.

Judson and Justin looked at one another, and Judson gave an encouraging nod.

“You’re not man enough for Brian,” Justin said calmly.

Michael snarled at Justin. “What, and you are? Just because you know how to get him to line your pockets?”

“Whoa,” Shane said. “Where did that come from, and what does it have to do with your fucking Schmidt?”

“Gus,” Brian said, his voice calm. “Please take your sister and go to your room. I’ll come and get you when we’ve sorted this out.”

Gus stood and grinned up at Brian. “Language, right?”

Brian smiled at his son, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Lots of it, I’m afraid.”

Gus shrugged, “Okay, Daddy, we’ll wait for you. Come on, JR.” The boy got up, walked around the table, grabbed two fresh rolls and drew his little sister away with him.

Ted was still looking at Michael, his expression wounded.

Just then, Blake turned up with Molly, Daphne, Matt, Leda and Jim. Their laughter stopped when they caught on to the atmosphere on the patio.

They all took one look around, then Jim asked, “What’s going on?”

“Your boyfriend is fucking Brian again, that’s what’s going on,” Michael said. “And he’s interested in Judson, too.”

Jim looked at Michael, his face blank with surprise. “My boyfriend?”

Michael jutted his chin at Justin. “That little slut over there.”

“Michael!” Jennifer said, furious.

Brian freed his hand and put his arm around Justin’s shoulders. “Careful there, Mikey,” he said nonchalantly. “We wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

Jim smiled at Justin, and Justin grinned back. 

Daphne giggled. “I thought you were the only man straight guys went gay over, Brian.”

Leda laughed. “How did you slip under the gaydar, Jim?”

“You said you were undecided,” Michael accused.

Brian and Jim exchanged a grin that made Jennifer wonder whether they had planned it that way.

“Exactly,” Jim said kindly. “Right now, I still feel pretty straight.”

“You’re not,” Michael insisted.

“Christ, Michael,” Debbie said impatiently. “Do you think Brian would have let Justin shack up with a queer?”

Justin shot Brian an unguarded look that told Jennifer the thought hadn’t occurred to him. Brian pulled his lips into his mouth, shrugging slightly. Justin’s eyes softened, and the smile he gave Brian was almost shy. Their gaze locked for a long moment, then Brian lowered his lids and looked away.

Jennifer glanced at Shane, who also had his eyes on the pair. There was a slight crease between his eyebrows, but his expression was friendly.

“I’m confused,” Carl said in a pleasant voice. “I thought this was about you, Michael. Ted. Ben.”

Blake looked baffled for a moment, then he looked at Ted, who didn't meet his eyes. Blake bit his bottom lip.

“I’m sorry, Blake, baby,” Emmett said, getting up to put his arm around the smaller man and looking at him sympathetically. “You shouldn’t have had to find out like this.”

Blake shrugged and sighed. “I guess I knew. I just didn’t know who. I should have guessed, what with all those photos in the dresser.”

“It’s not like that,” Ted said hesitantly. “I still want you, Blake.”

Blake raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. “I don’t want you, Ted. Not after this. And just so you know, I’m going to inform your employer that you're using again.”

Ted shot a hasty look at Brian. “Fuck you, Blake! Brian is my employer!”

Brian smirked. “It’s kind of nice that you remember it occasionally.”

“I’m man enough for you, Brian,” Michael said desperately.

Jennifer grinned as a few people looked at Michael with expressions that indicated they were trying to remember where this had come from.

“One track mind,” Brian smiled at her.

“Brian,” Michael whined. “Are you even listening to me?”

Brian sighed. “I’d prefer not to. You’re making a fool of yourself.”

Michael stamped his foot and crossed his arms, glaring daggers at Justin. “If that little piece of shit hadn't come back, you’d be with me now.”

Brian's surprise was palpable. He even let the insult to Justin slide. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“I know you. I know all about you.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Jennifer heard Judson mutter.

Brian said nothing, he kept his eyes on Michael as though waiting for him to add something.

“Really,” Michael said after a moment. “I do.”

Brian nodded slowly. “And just how do you know so much about me?”

Michael shrugged. “I have my sources.”

Brian laughed through his nose, in that annoyingly superior fashion of his. “Been talking to Mysterious Marilyn, have you?”

“Who needs Mysterious Marilyn, when they have access to your mail and your pockets,” Ted said unpleasantly.

Brian’s glance went from Michael to Ted. “Say that again,” his voice had taken on a grave tone, and Jennifer supposed that it must be a tone he used at Kinnetik, because she saw the people who worked for Brian straighten their backs as if they were coming to attention.

Michael dropped his arms to his side and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Jeez, Ted. You weren’t supposed to tell Brian!”

Brian stood up. “Am I to assume that you’ve been going through my pockets?”

Michael shrugged. “Justin went through your pockets, right?”

“Did not,” Justin and Brian sat in unison.

“Everybody does,” Michael insisted.

“So you did,” Brian said calmly, but there were flashes in the suddenly bright hazel that warned Jennifer Brian was furious. 

If Michael had known Brian as well as he claimed he did, he should have seen that. Clearly, he didn’t, because he blithely continued, “How else was I supposed to find out what you’re up to? You stopped telling me ages ago.”

“Don't get so worked up about it,” Debbie said, shrugging. “We already did that way back when you were still in school.”

“We,” Brian echoed tonelessly. “Who’s we? You? Vic?”

Shane looked stricken, and Jennifer felt her stomach clench. She pushed her plate away. More betrayals. Did these idiots even know how much they were hurting Brian?

Apparently, Ken and Dave had been thinking along the same lines.

“That will do,” Ken said. “You don’t need this shit, Brian.”

“Let's go inside,” Dave said.

Brian turned, and Jennifer saw him smile. It looked dangerous. “I started, so I shall finish.”

Brian turned back to Michael, and Justin looked up at Brian, openly concerned. Then he looked at Judson, who shook his head, and next at Shane, who shrugged. Exhaling, Justin got up and slipped his arm around Brian’s waist, pushing his thumb through one of the belt-loops.

Brian looked down at Justin, and Jennifer wondered whether that was a question or an answer. Either way, Justin just raised his eyebrows. Brian seemed to relax.

“Debbie. Tell me. Who went through my pockets?”

Debbie shrugged. “I did, I didn’t want you to bring drugs into the house. Michael did, because we knew you were seeing somebody, but you wouldn’t tell us who.”

“And what reason did Vic give for the invasion of my privacy?”

“Vic never touched your things,” Debbie said. “You know damn well he was much too decent for that.”

Justin snorted softly.

“Interesting,” Brian said quietly, worrying his lower lip with his teeth.

“How else would I know that you spend so much money on your little whore there,” Michael said.

Brian made a move, but Justin visibly tightened his hold. “Don’t Brian,” Jennifer heard him murmur. “It’s so not worth it.”

“Stop insulting Sunshine,” Debbie said. “It’s not his fault Brian thinks he can buy him like some car.”

Justin’s eyes widened, and Jennifer remembered that expression. Apparently, so did Molly. She grinned at Justin.

“Going to start throwing furniture again, Jester?”

Brian put his arm around Justin protectively. “Justin can’t be bought.”

Ted smirked. “Then why are you throwing all that money at him?”

Jennifer saw the muscles in Brian’s arm move, he was holding Justin in place.

“We won’t deign that with an answer,” Brian said coldly.

“None of your business, Ted,” Blake said, shaking his head.

“That’s right. It’s my business,” Michael insisted. “You wouldn't have to spend all that money if you were with me!”

“Michael is cheap,” Debbie said.

“Woman, do you even know what you’re saying,” Leda shook her head, grinning.

“I don’t do cheap,” Brian shot back.

“Cheap to keep, I meant,” Debbie said. “We all know Justin is high maintenance.”

Brian shook his head and sighed. “Will you leave Justin out of this? What about my mail, Michael? How did you get your hands on that?”

Ted snorted. “You gave him a key to the loft. He copied your key to the letter-box.”

Brian closed his eyes for a moment. “Hold on. Michael, you returned the key to the loft.”

“You’re so naive, Brian,” Ted laughed nastily. “He kept a copy.”

Brian exchanged a look with Judson, his face grim. “So, Theodore, Michael - have you been at the loft recently?”

“Sure, did it on your ten-thousand dollar designer sofa,” Ted laughed again. “For all that money, you’d think it would be easier on your back.”

Justin rubbed Brian’s bare arm with his free hand, and Jennifer saw that Brian had actually broken out in goose flesh.

“So, what other furniture do I need to toss? Where else have you been fucking?”

Ted grinned. “The stupid chaise keeps tilting, and we knew you’d notice if we changed your sheets, so we couldn’t use the bed. You might want to scrub the floor, though.”

“Scrub?” Brian echoed. “Strip and re-seal, more like. To think I walked barefoot over that floor!” He shook himself.

Jennifer remembered Justin's complaints that Brian was such a neat-freak, and fanatical about hygiene. For once, he hadn’t exaggerated.

“You didn’t have to tell him all that,” Michael whined. “He’ll be so angry with me!”

“I’m not angry, Michael,” Brian said calmly. “I’m livid.”

“Michael,” Ted said angrily. “What did you want with me if you're still after Brian?”

“I needed you to help me break the security code on the loft,” Michael shrugged. “I knew you’d be able to figure it out. Besides, Blake had said you were a good fuck. I just wanted to see if it was true.”

“You used me,” Ted said, incredulous.

“Welcome to the club,” Ben said, cradling the whiskey he had poured himself. He seemed to be watching the scene like a spectator in the theater.

“So tell me, Michael – did you find anything interesting in my mail?” Brian sounded deceptively mild, but the flashes were still visible in his eyes. Jennifer just knew he hadn't cooled off one bit.

Michael shrugged. “You ought to thank me for going through all the trash.”

“I still got junk in the mail,” Brian disagreed.

“Sure,” Michael said easily. “I knew you’d notice if you didn't get any ads. But I kept the letters you wouldn't want to read.”

“Letters,” Brian repeated. “Letters I wouldn't want to read. What kind of letters?”

“Well, Justin wrote you some thirty pages about how sorry he was after he moved in with Ben and I, and explaining himself. I didn’t think you'd want to hear that.”

Both Justin and Brian took a deep breath, then their eyes locked for a long moment.

“Later,” Brian said. Justin simply nodded.

“Anything else, Michael?”

“The stupid letters from that Eric guy.”

“Eric?”

“See? I knew you weren’t interested. He kept sending you photos of that girl with some kid.”

“N, not C?” Justin asked softly.

“I suppose so,” Brian took another deep breath. “What did you do with those letters?”

“I kept them. There in my box at home.”

“Get your ass in gear,” Brian said. “I want those letters.”

Michael frowned. “I haven't eaten yet, Brian.”

“I want those letters. I want them now,” Brian said. “Before your fucking place burns down or something.”

Brian stepped away from Justin and grabbed Michael. Jennifer saw that he was digging his fingers into Michael’s muscles. Michael flinched.

“Let go, Brian. You’re hurting me,” Michael complained.

Brian wordlessly dragged him into the house.

Justin stared after them, chewing his thumb nail. He looked at Judson.

Jennifer saw Judson’s smile widen.

“If you want him, now is the time to go after him,” he advised mildly.

Justin took off at a run.


	18. Eighteen

“You’re not coming with us,” Michael said immediately. Justin saw that Brian still had his biceps in that iron grip.

“The hell I’m not,” Justin replied calmly. “I’m driving.”

He looked at Brian and held out his hand. Fuck. Brian looked like shit.

Brian returned the look for a long moment, but then gave him the keys. “Get in the back, Michael.”

“I’m not sitting in the back like some kid,” Michael protested.

“Get in,” Brian said, sounding murderous.

Michael took one look at his face, and scrambled into the back of the Jeep. “Road trip, road trip! Remember, Brian?”

Brian sighed and sat in the passenger seat. “You'd best shut up, Michael.”

Justin got into the driver’s seat, noticing that he had forgotten to push back the seat earlier. Brian would have had something to say if he had tried to sit behind the wheel.

Brian apparently noted that he did not adjust the seat; he raised that eyebrow at him. Justin grinned, and set off in the direction of Pittsburgh.

“That box is at your house, right, Michael,” Justin asked.

“My mom’s house. I didn't want Ben to go snooping,” Michael said sullenly.

Brian snorted. “Yeah. It’s so much better to have your mother prying.”

Justin looked in the rear-view mirror and saw Michael shrug. “Ben would have told you. My mom wouldn’t.”

Brian sighed. “Which proves Ben is decent and you and Debbie are not.”

“My mom is decent,” Michael said defensively. “She’s on my side.”

Justin glanced over at Brian, who had his lips pulled into his mouth, staring straight ahead. Justin thought he looked sad.

He couldn’t talk to Brian about the things that mattered, not with Michael in the car. And there was no point in making small-talk. So Justin kept quiet and drove as fast as speed limits would allow.

He heaved a sigh of relief when he pulled up in front of Debbie’s house.

“I don’t think I have the key,” Michael said.

“I’ll kick in the door if you don’t,” Brian said coldly.

“You can’t do that, my mom might get robbed.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Christ, Michael. Any thief who breaks into this joint will return bearing gifts!”

“That’s so not fair,” Michael said. “Just because you can afford expensive shit like that sofa.”

“Don’t talk to me about fair. You wouldn’t know how much the damn sofa cost if you hadn’t spied on me,” Brian replied. “Shut your mouth and open the fucking door. I know full well that you always carry those keys with you.”

Sighing, Michael fished for the keys. He pulled them out of his jeans-pocket with visible reluctance and unlocked the door with yet another deep sigh.

“Do you really want those letters? Some of them are really annoying!”

“Fuck. You read them? All of them?”

Michael shrugged. “Sure. I thought I’d find out things. But there wasn’t much there.”

“I guess it's lucky you didn’t just burn them,” Justin commented. Right now, he felt like strangling the idiot.

“I couldn’t burn them. They were Brian’s,” Michael said, as though that was an explanation.

Brian huffed. “Let’s just get those fucking letters and get out of here. Justin, is any of your stuff still here?”

Justin shook his head.

“He didn’t have much until you took him shopping,” Michael said with a nasty smirk.

Brian frowned at him. “That’s because Justin doesn’t steal.”

“I don’t steal,” Michael protested. “I just… kept things safe for you.”

“Let’s go get them things,” Justin said.

Michael shrugged and stomped upstairs, leading the way to his room. 

Justin wondered where Michael kept that box, and how big it was. He thought he knew every inch of that room.

Michael opened the door and then wavered. “I don’t really want you to see my hiding place.”

Brian shook his head. “We’re not about to come back and rob you of your comics.”

“You only want the letters back, right?”

Brian nodded, then seemed to hesitate. “Wait a sec. Do you have stuff other than the letters?”

Michael nodded proudly. “Sure. Lots. But it’s old stuff. You don’t really want that back, do you? It’s just – mementos, you know.”

“Mementos? Let me look,” Brian demanded. Justin thought he heard the earlier anger back in the smooth voice.

“I’m sure you have some of my things,” Michael said pleadingly. “That’s what friends are like, right?”

“I have none of yours,” Brian shook his head. “Friends don’t read each other’s mail, and they don’t pocket each other’s possessions. Get that box, Michael. I’m tired of your prevaricating.”

Michael stared at Justin. Justin returned the stare levelly, certain that Michael would want him out of the room.

Sure enough. “I don’t want the boy wonder here,” Michael said.

“I do,” Brian said. “Get on with it.”

The impatience Brian projected was unmistakable, and Michael finally caved after a last uncertain look at Brian's stony expression. He shrugged and pushed the bed aside, then removed a section of the wall.

“Shit, that was one big mouse,” Justin joked when he saw the large hole.

“It’s a fireplace,” Michael explained hastily. “Mom had it boarded up on my side, but I sawed through the wood one afternoon when she was working. I needed somewhere to hide my stuff.”

“How industrious of you,” Brian said grimly. “I never knew you could handle a saw.”

Michael shrugged. “School, arts and crafts, remember?” He knelt on the floor and pulled out a fair sized wooden box. Justin stared. That box with its beautiful intricate carvings was probably worth more than all of Michael’s other possessions combined.

Brian exhaled audibly. “I want that box back.”

“Shit,” Michael exclaimed, getting to his feet. “I knew you were going to say that!”

“I spent the entire school year working on that,” Brian said coldly. “It was a gift.”

“So how come Michael’s got it,” Justin asked, still admiring the work as Michael plonked it down on the bed.

Brian frowned. “The teacher insisted I should show it at the school fair. It vanished sometime during the last day. The parent in charge didn't know me, and said some boy had picked it up, giving my name. It took me some twenty years to find the mean little thief. You are a piece of shit, Novotny!”

“I know you wanted it back real bad. But it was too good for your mother,” Michael sniffed. “And I couldn't let you give it to my mother, it was so much better than my box!”

“It wasn’t for your mother, or mine, for that matter. It was for somebody else entirely,” Brian said coldly.

“Who? Shane’s mom? He did a box for her himself, didn't he?”

“None of your fucking business,” Brian said. “Give it here.”

Michael sighed with a put-upon air and opened the box. “Just let me get some of my stuff out.”

Brian stood next to him, looking over his shoulder. After a moment, he said, “There’s nothing of yours in there. All of that is mine.”

“But I really want to keep some of this stuff,” Michael whined. “You never missed any of it.”

“You have no idea what I miss and what not,” Brian said. “Do I need to look in that hole for more of my belongings?”

Justin saw Michael’s eyes flick to the former fireplace, then back to Brian. “No,” he said quickly.

Too quickly. And Brian must have seen the flicker in Michael’s eyes, too.

“Let me do the honors,” Justin said, kneeling down. “Otherwise we’ll be here all night.”

“Don’t you dare,” Michael screamed, making a move as if to throw himself at him. 

Brian grabbed his arm. “Oh no you don’t.”

Justin felt to the sides of the hole. Damn, this was one big cranny. Only, he had been wrong about the mouse. This particular hole had been dug by an over-sized rat.

He felt something soft under his fingertips, something that felt oddly familiar. The fabric was smooth, cool, felt expensive. What could Michael own that was valuable?

Justin pulled. Fuck. He shot a quick look over his shoulder to see whether Brian had already seen what it was.

Judging by the dazed expression, he had. Brian’s blue Armani suit, once his favorite outfit. Which had vanished when he had forgotten to set the alarm, and Brian was robbed.

The material was a bit dusty, and smelled of mothballs. Mothballs! Justin snorted. Brian wasn’t going to want this back, that was for sure.

Justin reached in again, feeling more material. He tugged. Brian’s mocha colored suit. Also stolen that day.

Justin looked up, meeting Brian’s eyes. “You want me to keep going?”

Brian nodded mutely, his grip on Michael’s arm visibly tightening. Michael was still trying to get away from him, but he didn’t have the strength. Brian wasn't even paying him much attention, and Justin wondered whether Brian handled his horses like that? Confident, without effort.

Justin closed his eyes and just hauled everything out of that cavity in one go.

Sitting back on his haunches, Justin looked over his booty. Twelve Armani suits, four Gucci belts, six pairs of Prada shoes. Silk shirts, cashmere sweaters, designer jeans, ties. Cutlery. A Philip Starck Alessi juicer. Shit. Somehow, Michael had been involved in that robbery at the loft.

Quickly, he went through all the pockets. Brian didn’t normally have things in the pockets of his suits, and Michael had probably gone through them before. But you never knew. All the pockets were empty, save for one white silk handkerchief.

Justin got up, looking at Brian. 

Brian was pale, his eyelids fluttering. He turned to Michael. “Care to explain?”

Michael shrugged. “I knew you were insured. I just wanted you to ditch the boy wonder.”

Brian bit his lip and looked at him. “I owe you an apology, Justin.”

Justin shrugged. “You don’t. Michael does.”

“Come on, Bri,” Michael said pleadingly. “You could afford to replace this shit.”

“And I could afford to replace Justin, or what? What did you do with my TV, that didn’t fit in there, did it?”

“I kept the DVD player, but I sold your TV and the computer,” Michael admitted. “There was this collection of metal robots from World War II on eBay. I wanted those, and I got them at a really good price, too! And I needed some money for the comic convention in San Diego.”

Justin swallowed, realizing it hurt because his throat was totally dry. Seriously? Michael had fenced Brian's TV so he could go to a con?

Brian sighed. “Why didn’t you just ask me for the money? You always used to. And why the fuck did you steal my files?”

“I knew there wasn’t anything in there. But a real robber wouldn’t have known that, so I had to take them. I tossed them in a dumpster.”

“You're a criminal mastermind, who would've thought. And why did you leave all of Justin’s stuff? A robber wouldn’t have known what belonged to me?”

“Well, I figured if they wanted your valuables, they’d not go for Justin's cheap underwear,” Michael smirked. “Besides, I knew you’d be twice as angry if all his shit was still there when yours wasn’t.”

Brian stared at Michael as if seeing him for the first time. Maybe he did.

Justin looked at the other man, trying to see what Brian might see. 

Dark hair, which looked boring no matter what Michael did. A naive face, misleading puppy-dog eyes. There was an expression in the deep brown that Justin had seen there before; and he had seen the same expression in the eyes of Chris Hobbs when he told him he would get AIDS and die. Justin suppressed his shudder. It wouldn't do to let Brian see how much this affected him, when it had to affect Brian so much more.

Slight body, sagging shoulders; and the shabby T-shirt with a picture of the Silver Surfer enhanced the slack belly. Jeans that didn’t really fit, and scuffed sneakers with the laces open. Was the man so incapable he couldn’t tie his own laces? Or was that part of the image?

Pretend you’re sweet, a bit helpless, innocent, and simple – and get your kicks in without anybody even suspecting you. Bravo, Michael. Gotta hand it to you. You even fooled Brian, and that's no easy feat.

Brian swallowed. “Leave things as they are, Justin. The police will be very interested in this.”

“Police!” Michael squealed. “You can’t send the police here, my mom will die of shame.”

“You should have thought about that before,” Justin said angrily.

“She won’t,” Brian said coldly. “She’s fucking a cop.”

“Don’t you talk about my mom like that!”

Brian shrugged. “I need to get out of here. You make me want to puke. Justin, can you please take the box? I want to keep my hands on this petty little larcenist here.”

Justin nodded, preceding them down the stairs. Brian dragged Michael down the stairs and locked the door with one hand, still holding on to Michael. Justin saw that he pocketed the keys.

Justin opened the doors of the Jeep and put the box in front of the passenger’s seat. It didn't leave much room for Brian's legs, but he felt certain Brian didn't want Michael near that box again.

Brian roughly pushed Michael into the back of the car. “Let’s roll, Justin. We need to go past the loft.”

Justin nodded and took the once so familiar streets. He had a feeling he’d not be taking this direction again anytime soon.

Brian pulled out his cell and speed-dialed. “Hey. You home? I need to swing by, can you meet me downstairs? I’ll be there in five, tops.”

Justin glanced across at him, the set features. He remembered that, from when Brian had fired him at Vangard. He had this expression when he was really, really mad.

Minutes later, Justin stopped in front of 6, Fuller. There was somebody behind the glass door, but Justin didn’t recognize the man.

Brian opened the car door. “If Michael wants to get out, break his legs.”

Justin smirked. “Love to!”

They shared a tight smile, and Brian strode to the door.

“Let me get out, Justin,” Michael begged. “He’s going to tell the others, isn’t he?”

“If he won't, I will,” Justin said icily. “Don’t expect me to do you any favors, you moron.”

“And he’ll tell the police!” Michael’s voice rose an octave, annoying Justin with its pitch.

He turned in his seat to glare at Michael. “I sure hope he does. You deserve a life-sentence. Not for the theft, though that's bad enough. But for hurting Brian. You’re a real slimy bastard.”

“Am not. My mom was married,” Michael smirked.

“I doubt that,” Justin shot back, stopping himself from blurting out what he knew. “Everything about you is a falsehood, so probably your birth is, too.”

How odd. For the first time he was aware that Michael sometimes had pretty snappy comebacks. Then again, the guy fancied himself a writer.

Brian slipped back into the car after a brief conversation with the stranger at the door. Justin had seen him hand the man something, and was pretty certain Brian had given him the keys to Debbie’s house.

“Where now,” Justin asked.

Brian shrugged. “Home. Debbie needs to see him alive before we turn him over to the cops.”

“You're not going to turn me over to the police,” Michael whimpered. “You’re my best friend!”

Brian stared straight ahead. “I probably have been your best friend. Clearly, you never were mine.”

They rode back in hostile silence, and Justin remembered the contented hush when they had driven home from town this morning. He wanted to touch Brian, hold him close and make the pain go away. At the same time, he knew that there was more pain in store for Brian tonight. He wanted to kick Michael out of the car and run away with Brian. Justin sighed. He figured his chances of running away with Brian were rather slim.

Finally, he was able to put the car into parking in front of the mansion.

“Can you take the asshole around the back? I want to put the box in the office and go through it quick.”

Justin nodded. “You want me to send Shane in? Or Judson?”

Brian paused. Looked at him. The handsome face was impassive, but his lids were fluttering. What had been so surprising about his question?

Brian pushed his tongue into his cheek. “You come in.”

Justin nodded again and tightened his hold on Michael’s wrist. “I’ll just take out the trash.”

Brian snorted and went into the house.

 

“See, Judson, I knew you were just a toy for Brian,” Debbie said triumphantly. “A diversion.”

Jennifer saw Judson swallow. Before she could say anything, Shane said frostily, “I’ve never ever hit a woman before. Not even my own sister, way back when we were kids. But I’m mighty tempted right now, Debbie!”

“Don’t,” Leda said with a feral smile. “I’ll do it. Be happy to. I’ve hit lots of women, haven’t I, Mel!”

“Hit them, and hit on them,” Melanie said with a grin. They both laughed.

Lindsay came staggering onto the patio, glass firmly in hand. “Why didn't anybody tell me we were ready to eat?”

Melanie sighed. “I did. But you wanted to finish your drink first.”

Lindsay shrugged and sat next to her. “Whatever”, she muttered. Jennifer noticed that she poured herself a generous amount of whiskey, but didn't get any food. She also didn’t ask about the children. Didn’t she care?

Carl cleared his throat. “Debbie. Mail theft is a felony. Are you aware Brian could sue?”

Debbie shrugged carelessly. “He won’t. He loves Michael.”

Jim shook his head. “Don’t be so certain. I’d think it depends on how much those letters mean to him.”

“Christ, how much can a bunch of old letters mean to anyone. Letters he hasn't even read yet. At best, he’ll be pissed that Michael pocketed Justin’s letter. He shouldn’t have done that, that wasn’t right. But they're back together now, so Brian won’t mind so much.”

Carl stared at Debbie. “Jesus. Are you the same woman who insisted we find out who the boy in the dumpster was?”

Debbie looked at Carl, as if she had heard something in his tone that warned her. She smiled. “Really Carl. Brian will take it in his stride. He knows it’s just a prank.”

Carl rubbed his chin. “I hope for your sake that you’re right. This could get ugly.”

Debbie smirked. “If Brian gets out of line, I’ll just have to talk to his mother again, won’t I.”

“Will you leave Brian's fucking mother out of this,” Shane said violently. “He’s an adult. Only your Michael still needs his mommy at our age!”

Frowning, Debbie said, “I’m more worried about Michael’s remarks about Justin. Brian sure won’t like those! I just hope he won’t hit my boy again.”

“Why did he hit Michael at your party, Mel, did you ever find out,” Emmett asked.

Mel shook her head. “Lindsay tried to talk to Brian about it, but for once, he told her to fuck off.”

“Yeah,” Lindsay slurred. “So much for being bestest friends, and all that. Jerk.”

“Michael wouldn’t tell me, either,” Debbie complained. “He said Brian didn’t hear him clearly.”

Emmett tilted his head. “Brian has excellent hearing, Debbie. I’m almost certain he heard Michael way too clearly!”

Jennifer had noticed that Blake had slowly withdrawn from the group. She didn’t say anything, because she had a feeling he wanted to leave without being seen. 

“Where are you going, Blake, we need to talk,” Ted said suddenly.

Blake shook his head. “I’m leaving. I won't talk to you again.”

“You’ll have to, when Brian puts me on the drug program,” Ted said confidently.

“What makes you think he’ll do that? I have a feeling you’re out of a job,” Blake stated.

Ted shrugged. “He won’t fire me for using. He kept Jeanette, didn’t he?”

Blake shook his head. “Whatever. I’m out of here. Tell Brian I’ll call him, will you, Judson?”

Judson nodded. “If you insist. You know he’d want you to stay.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Do you have somewhere to go? Do you have any money?”

Blake fixed his eyes on Ted. “Do I have any money in the bank, Mr. Accountant?”

Ted shrugged. “Your pay should be there tomorrow.”

“Should be, huh,” Blake said. “That’s comforting.”

“Wait,” Ben said. “You can use Hunter’s car, he won't mind. I’ll give you the keys.”

Blake hesitated, then nodded. “Thanks, Ben, I appreciate it.”

Judson held out some money. “Take it, Blake. Just in case our accountant made another mistake. You can pay me back when your money gets in.”

Blake bit his lip. “You’ll be in next Monday?”

“Count on it,” Judson nodded.

Blake took the money. “Thanks, Judson.”

Together with Ben he climbed the stairs to the guest rooms.

 

“You guys fucked up well and good,” Mel said, looking at Ted. “Why Michael of all people?”

Ted shrugged. “I get this question from the mother of his child?”

Mel sighed. “Yeah, well, I should have chosen Brian. That was a massive mistake.”

Debbie glared at her. “You keep this up and you won’t be getting child support for much longer!”

Mel laughed bitterly. “What child support? I’m not getting any now! Brian keeps a roof over our head, and bread on the table! Your Michael doesn’t even have what it takes to buy a birthday gift for his own daughter. Brian was there with presents for her, and he had sent a huge parcel full of toys ahead, telling me to say it was from Michael.”

“He’s spoiling that kid,” Lindsay grumbled. “Both kids, really.”

Debbie frowned. “But Michael said…”

“Yeah, your Michael says a lot,” Mel interrupted. “Most of it is fabrication.”

Ted sighed and shook his head. “Ain’t that the truth.”

Mel looked at him again, her gaze sympathetic. “So, why Michael?”

Ted shrugged. “I’ve been in love with Michael for years. He deserves to be loved. I really thought he wanted me now.”

Mel frowned. “You deserve to be loved. But by Michael? That’s a pipe-dream. We all know he’s still after Brian.”

Ted gave her a watery smile. “I miss you, Melanie.”

Mel smiled back. “I miss Pittsburgh, too.”

Jennifer was aware that she didn't say she missed Ted, though.

“Don’t you miss me,” Ted asked, sounding hurt.

Melanie hesitated. “I miss the old Ted. But if you’re using again… I can't afford to have you around. Not with two children to look after.”

“And two college funds to steal from,” Emmett said, giving Ted a hard, stern look. His voice sounded completely different from its normal cheery tone, and Jennifer realized that she had been quite happy to see Emmett as a cliché he wasn’t. Wait - steal from college funds? Ted had done that? Whose funds?

Ted looked at Emmett. “I won't do that again. I swear.”

“Because you won't have that chance, Teddy,” Emmett said gently. “If you're back on crystal meth, there’s no telling what you’ll do.”

“Did you give any of that shit to my Michael,” Debbie demanded suddenly. “Did you, Ted?”

Ted quickly shook his head.

Emmett sighed. “You're lying, Ted. It's already starting. Anybody in their right mind will avoid you again. Is it worth it? Was fucking Michael on Brian’s furniture worth it?”

Ted looked away.

“That must have been a dream come true for both of you,” Emmett said, his voice deeper, and just slightly dangerous. Jennifer found herself looking at sweet, camp Emmett with a whole new respect.

“Fucking you in his loft, Michael was probably pretending you were Brian. And you were pretending you were Brian, too. Freud would have a field day with you two sickos!”

“I was not pretending…”

“You were. Like that time when you borrowed the loft, the outfit, the tricks and even Brian's bracelet. You had all the accouterments, but you still couldn’t pull it off. When you were on meth the first time, you told me you hated yourself, you wanted to be the person you were when you were on the drug.”

“I didn't see it then, but now I know. With the drug in your system, you dared to be your own version of Brian Kinney. Only, where Brian has class, you have airs, and where Brian is strong, you are mulish. Where Brian has balls, you have delusions. You are Brian Kinney with clay feet. Face it, Teddy – no amount of drugs or money or beauty operations will even bring you close to being Brian. Don’t waste your life being a rotten copy of something you can never achieve. Try to be yourself, that's hard enough and good enough for your friends.”

“And he never gains an ounce,” Lindsay snorted. “Disgusting, really.”

Jennifer heard Judson sigh. He probably was as fed up with Lindsay as she was.

Ted had tears in his eyes. “Can anyone tell me how Brian does it? He doesn't even have to try, does he?”

Next to her, Tucker sighed. “No, Schmidt. Brian doesn't have to try. He never pretends to be something he isn’t.”

“It’s not fair,” Ted said. “He’s got it all. Beauty. Money. Sex. Justin.”

Judson laughed softly. “He’ll share all that, but stay away from Justin. He’ll have you drawn and quartered before you can say fuck.”

“You don’t understand,” Ted burst out. “Nobody understands. You don’t know what it’s like being ugly and unimportant and not particularly smart or interesting, having to watch beautiful, brilliant Brian Kinney, day in and day out.”

“Watch Brian take a hot trick home, and you know he’s going to be fucking all night. Still, when he gets into the office, he looks like a Greek god. And you just know he didn't get much sleep, if any at all. But he’s still dazzling and sharp, and the clever ideas keep coming. He convinces clients, because he’s fucking gorgeous Brian Kinney. And whether you walk into a restaurant with him, or into a bar, or across an airport – heads turn and he’ll have thirty people hitting on him before you even opened the menu or handed over your ticket!”

Shane shrugged. “I’ve been watching Brian for some twenty years, Schmidt. I admire him, I adore him. But I never wanted to be him.”

“Much too stressful,” Tucker agreed, grinning.

Shane shrugged again. “There’s only one Brian Kinney. Why even try to compete with that?”

“I think some of you are missing the fact that Brian wasn’t born that way,” Justin said, dragging Michael after him onto the patio.

“Brian works his ass off for his money, and he works his ass off for his looks,” Justin looked pointedly at Michael’s pouch. “You guys never took the work-outs seriously; you only went to the gym for the scenery.”

“So did Brian,” Ted disagreed.

Justin shrugged. “Whatever. Can I trouble you to keep little Michael here out of trouble and on the patio, guys? Brian asked me to join him in the office.”

“Yeah, and we all wonder what you’re going to do there,” Michael said nastily. “Not.”

Justin favored him with an unsympathetic look, and not for the first time, Jennifer saw the man behind her boy’s face. He had once looked at Craig like that. “You sure you want me to tell everybody what we’re going to do, Michael?”

“Fuck off, Justin.”

Justin looked at Shane. “Don’t let him run away, Brian has something to say to him.”

Shane nodded. “You got it. I’ll sit on him, if necessary.”

“They didn't hit you, honey, now did they,” Debbie asked.

Justin snorted. “Hitting that piece of shit is too good for him. You’ll find your son is not quite as wonderful as you think.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Debbie asked. “What did you do now, Michael?”

“Nothing,” Michael said sullenly, filling a plate to the brim with fettuccine. “Nothing at all, Mom. Brian has blown it all out of proportion.”

Jennifer couldn't believe his nerve.

“Brian,” Tucker said doubtfully. “He’s one of the most reasonable men I know.”

“Yeah, reasonable,” Ted scoffed. “He's the epitome of drama queen.”

Emmett shook his head. “He’s not. When Brian has a fit, he has a reason.”

Michael brought his plate to the table and sat down to eat. “You didn’t use to like Brian. What’s changed, Em?”

“He grew on me,” Emmett smiled. “Brian is rather sweet when you really get to know him.”

“Before or after fucking,” Ted said.

Emmett just shook his head, and Calvin put an arm around him and drew him close.


	19. Nineteen

Hot. He was hot. Unbearably hot.

Brian tore off his clothes, tossed them into the hamper and stepped under the cold hard sprays of the shower.

Michael had stood right next to him when he kicked Justin out, and hadn't said a word. Not one word. His supposed best friend. His best friend, who had actually committed the crime himself. 

Lies, and more lies.

They were often difficult to be with, but he had thought of Michael and Debbie as his family.

Brian snorted a harsh laugh. They were his family.

They lied to his face, they spied on him, they stole from him, and they talked about him behind his back, bad-mouthing him all the way. Was that why he had put up with them all this time? Because it was all so achingly familiar?

Soap. He had soap in his eyes. His eyes were watering because of the damn soap.

Christ, it was cold in here. He really needed to warm up.

Brian vigorously toweled himself dry and donned fresh clothes.

Time to face the music, Kinney. 

Time to go open Pandora’s box.

 

Justin knocked on the office door. “Brian? It’s me.”

He heard footsteps, the key turned in the lock and the door opened. Brian pulled him inside and then locked the door again.

Typical, Justin thought. Brian’s hair was damp, so he’d had a shower. He had known Brian would want to change. He now wore a white wife-beater and black jeans.

Justin looked at Brian more closely. The pupils larger than normal, the whites of the eyes bloodshot, the sensuous mouth a grim line – and there was a dark smudge on his cheek. “What are you on?”

“Nothing,” Brian said. “Why?”

Justin shrugged. “Go wash your face. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Brian went to the sink and splashed water into his face, snorting an angry laugh. “That’s an adequate description. I have. I’ve seen the ghost of yesteryear. Many ghosts, many yesteryears, actually. All thanks to my good friend Mikey, who lowered the drawbridge to my forgotten youth! I owe it all to him!”

Justin looked around. 

The safe stood open, the bunch of purple envelopes that he had seen in the box earlier were already in there. Erin didn’t live in Pittsburgh, then? Why else would she write to Brian? What was in those letters that Michael found boring and Brian was intense about? Justin suppressed a sigh. Yes, he wanted to know more about Erin, and what she meant to Brian. But he was quite sure that whatever those letters said, Brian wasn’t going to share it with him.

His own fat letter was on the table underneath the safe, together with some jewelry he recognized. Brian had used to wear that silver bracelet sometimes, and those intricate gold cuff-links – all those things had vanished the day the loft was robbed. There was an old baseball glove next to the small pile.

Curious, Justin picked it up and looked at it. It was good quality, almost as good as the one he had had. He was about to put it back down when something small slipped out of it. He just managed to catch it. It was a ring, with a bracelet looped through it. It looked like silver, but it was too heavy for that. Platinum, then.

Justin took a closer look. Inside the ring, there were four letters and a number – ES BK 7-10-88. The bracelet had the same letters engraved in one of the links.

“Is this yours,” Justin asked as Brian turned, holding up the jewelry for Brian to see.

Brian took a hasty step closer, reaching for the trinkets and looking at them as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He ran his finger across the bracelet, almost reverently. “I thought I’d lost these forever,” he said softly. “Yes, they’re mine. Where were they?”

“Tucked away in the baseball glove,” Justin pointed.

Brian nodded, undid the clasp and slipped the bracelet on his left wrist. He looked at it for a long moment, then took it back off and put it into the safe, together with the ring.

“Is the glove yours,” Justin asked cautiously, wondering why that bracelet had gone on the left wrist, when Brian normally wore them on his right.

Brian turned to him. “Yes. I can’t believe that little shit stole it.”

He mimicked Michael’s voice. “Brian, I need to know your locker combination, in case I ever need to get a book for you or something. Really, Brian, I won’t use it for anything else, I swear.” 

Justin almost grinned. If Michael had sounded like that twenty years ago, he hadn’t changed much.

Brian sighed. “I was in deep shit because of him. That glove wasn’t cheap, you know. My father wouldn't believe it was stolen right out of my locker. He thought I’d sold it to buy something for my mother.” He snorted. “I guess it would’ve been alright, if I had sold it to buy beer.”

Brian sounded younger somehow. Reluctant. 

Justin wondered what it must have been like, going home to confess to Jack that the expensive glove was gone.

“What else is in that box, Brian?”

“Let’s find out,” Brian sighed. He reached into the box. “Photos, by the look of it.”

He rifled through the stack. “Jesus, he’s been stalking me. Will you look at that!”

Photos of a very young Brian, with Erin and Shane. Brian’s portrait had done her justice, she really did look lovely. Brian. Laughing, playing the guitar, dancing. Messing around in the snow. Some more photos of the trio, with a little boy. How cute that kid was! And how Brian held him – just like he held Gus, gently, yet firmly. More photos of Brian, cutting grass and trimming a hedge. Brian, playing football. Mhh, he looked good in that outfit. Very good.

Justin smirked. “Nice hairdo, Brian.”

Brian shrugged. “I hadn’t met Stephen yet.”

“I bet Shane loved running his fingers through your hair.”

“Don’t go there,” Brian sighed.

“You weren’t exactly a troll, you know. I’m not surprised they all fell in love with you even then. What do you want to do with the photos, show them to Shane?”

“I will, later. Put them in the safe, please,” Brian asked, reaching for a folder.

“I can’t believe this,” Justin heard him mutter. “Fucking little asshole!”

“What is it,” Justin asked, turning away from the safe.

“My term paper,” Brian said. 

There was more to it, Justin knew. There was a very odd tone in Brian’s voice.

He stood next to Brian, running a gentle hand down his back. Tense muscles, rigid spine. The moment he felt that, Justin knew that Brian kept going on sheer resolve.

“Sit,” he murmured. “I’ll go get you a drink.”

Brian nodded, sinking into the chair behind the desk, folder still in hand.

Justin hurried, returning moments later and locking the door again. He put the drink in front of Brian and asked, “What about the paper?”

Brian shrugged, taking a sip of the whiskey Justin had brought for him. “There was this teacher,” he said hesitantly. “Miss Clegg. She was pretty, and young. And she was making eyes at me. I kept refusing; politely of course. My dad found out, I don’t know how. He said I should do it with her, just to keep my grades.”

“I didn’t. I still got an A, she was fair like that. Only, the term paper vanished out of my locker. I couldn’t prove to my dad that I’d even turned in the blasted paper. He got rather angry with me.”

Justin shook his head. “He got angry because you got an A? After he suggested you sleep with her?”

Brian sighed. “Nobody ever accused Jack Kinney of consistency.”

Justin stood behind Brian and kneaded his shoulders. “You want to look at the rest tomorrow?”

Brian shook his head. “It’s now or never. I need to find out what else dear little Mikey has pocketed.”

“Stay put,” Justin said. “I’ll get it.”

He looked into the box. “That’s not yours,” he said, smiling, holding up a white silk scarf. It was covered with colored hand-prints, one large hand, one small hand and a tiny one.

Brian jumped up. “Yes! Yes, it is. I’ve been wondering where that went!”

He pulled it out of Justin's hand and, inhaling, pressed it against his cheek, closing his eyes for a moment. “The fucking bastard,” he murmured. “He stole that from the loft.”

“When he robbed you?”

“No,” Brian shook his head, opening his eyes. Justin saw the telltale glitter of unshed tears. “Much earlier than that. Before I met you.”

Brian sniffed, put the scarf into the safe and went over to the sink to wash his face again.

“I thought Erin had wanted it back. Only, we couldn’t find it when…” Brian fell silent, heaving a sigh.

Justin looked into the box. Not much left, fortunately. Brian had seen enough ghosts for one night.

He reached for the last but one item. He almost dropped it when he realized what it was – a ring of hair. Dark, smooth, silky, still shiny hair.

Brian took it from him and slipped it into an envelope, which he also put into the safe. “Erin’s,” he explained softly. “Such lovely hair.”

Justin reached for the last item, a cardboard box, and looked inside. “DVDs,” he said. “Quite a few. You’ll need the computer.”

Brian nodded. “Give them here.”

“Do you know what’s on these,” Justin asked curiously.

“I haven’t the faintest,” Brian admitted, sitting down again and pressing the start-up button on the computer. Moments later, he accessed the first disc. 

Justin saw him lose all color, and for the first time ever was scared that Brian would pass out on him. Quickly, he put his arms around Brian's shoulders.

Brian leaned into him for a while, his eyes closed. He had goose flesh on his arms, and was shivering slightly. Justin knew it wasn't because he was cold. 

Brian had put the desktop on the screen, so Justin couldn't see what had upset him. Justin held tight, gently pressing Brian’s head against his chest.

Finally, Justin murmured, “You want to tell me?”

Brian sighed. “No. I don't want to tell you. But you have a right to know, so I guess I’d better.”

Justin felt another slight tremor run through the lean frame, as Brian continued,” He had a video camera in my bedroom. The sick fuck.”

“Cute,” Justin said, disgusted. “Where did he hide that?”

Brian moved away a little, and stared at the monitor. Justin wondered what he was seeing. “Judging by the angle, above the screens separating the rooms. There’s a small shelf up there; the screens are a standard size, but the ceiling in the loft is higher than normal, and we needed to make up the difference.”

“I’ll destroy the DVDs,” Brian sighed. “But I’d like to look at them first. Maybe he’s taped something else, as well. If there’s footage of the kids, I’d like to salvage that. Are you okay with that?”

Justin nodded readily. “Sure. You do what you think is best.”

Brian put an arm around his waist and squeezed. “Thank you.”

“What for,” Justin asked quietly.

Brian looked up at him. “Being here.”

“At least now you can tell Erin why you never answered those letters.”

Brian closed his eyes, and then looked over at the safe. “Erin is dead.”

“Shit,” Justin swore. “I’m sorry, Brian. I’m so sorry.”

Brian shrugged, sighing. “At least you know why I never reacted to your letter. Do you want it back?”

Justin shook his head. “No. It’s yours. Read it, but only if you want to.”

Brian seemed to hesitate, but then met his eyes and asked, “Would it have made a difference?”

Justin thought for a moment. “It might have. If you had been able to read it then. Would you have read it?”

“I would have,” Brian said softly. “Of course I would have.” He stood up.

Justin looked at him. Brian looked exhausted. “Is there any way I can persuade you to go get some sleep?”

“Are you kidding?”

“You don’t look your usual perky self.”

“Fuck you so much!”

“Love to! No hardship at all. Let’s go find a bed,” Justin grinned.

Brian drew his lips into his mouth. “If I don't go out there soon, we’ll have the Indians and the cavalry come look for us. Besides, the kids haven't eaten yet.”

“I’ll take them something,” Justin offered.

Brian shook his head. “I’ve already been up there, and told them it won’t be long.”

Justin frowned. “You're so stubborn. How much longer do you plan on dealing with this shit?”

Glancing at his watch, Brian smirked. “Half an hour, tops.”

“Promise. Brian. Promise me,” Justin held on to Brian's arms. “You’ve had enough for one day.”

Brian tilted his head. “Had a nice long midnight chat with Jim, have you?”

Justin sighed and looked out of the window for a moment. Startled, he saw that it was still light outside. He could have sworn it was night already. What time was it, anyway?

“You look great. You always do. But you’re underweight, and I didn't need to talk to anybody to see that.”

Brian nodded. “What did Jim tell you?”

“That you don't have AIDS.”

“If I had it, don’t you think I would have told you to get checked,” Brian sounded offended.

Startled, Justin laughed. “I was so fucking worried. I was so fucking worried about you that it never even occurred to me. Of course you would have told me to get myself checked.”

Brian raised an eyebrow at him. “Twat.”

Justin nodded happily. “Your twat. Deal with it.”

Brian bit his lower lip and drew him into a tight embrace. “No hardship.”

Justin returned the hug eagerly.

 

Shane watched as Brian and Justin stepped out onto the patio. They were walking close together, but not touching. Something told him there had been a whole lot of touching before, though. And somehow, he knew that Brian wanted to do more than touch. Judson was right, this was where Brian wanted to be.

Both men looked tense, and alert. Brian seemed exhausted, not that you’d be able to tell easily. It was just in the way he held himself, as though driven by willpower rather than muscles. And maybe it was in the way Justin hovered so protectively. 

They stood close to where Michael was sitting, staring down at him.

“So,” Ted said, breaking the sudden and awkward silence. “Find anything interesting in that box?”

Justin nodded. “Yes, indeed. A veritable treasure trove, if you’re a Brian Kinney aficionado.”

“I thought Michael only kept those letters,” Debbie said uncertainly, looking at Michael.

Shane looked at him as well, but then looked away. Did the jerk have to hold his spoon like a shovel? And who ate fettuccine with a spoon, anyway?

“Letters, yes,” Justin said. “And photos. He’s been stalking Brian.”

“I thought that was your job,” Ted smirked.

Emmett smiled affectionately. “Ah, but Brian always wanted Justin to stalk him. Right, Bri?”

Shane glanced at Brian, who said nothing, but exchanged a quick look with Justin. Justin grinned knowingly. Now that was interesting. He’d have to needle Brian about that later. Much later, when things were back to normal. As normal as they ever got for Brian.

“What kind of photos,” Shane asked.

“You, Erin, me, the kid,” Brian said.

Shane shook his head. “Asshole,” he muttered.

“That’s not so bad,” Debbie said, sounding relieved.

“Then there’s the films from the camera he had hidden in Brian's bedroom,” Justin continued.

Debbie looked at Michael, shaking her head. “You really are obsessed with that boy, aren’t you.”

“The boy is a grown man,” Shane said angrily. “And even as a boy, you have a right to your privacy. Is there anything in Brian’s life your Michael didn't crawl over and worm himself into?”

“Not much, I’d say,” Justin smiled coldly. “Michael really is a worm. There was that term paper…”

Keeping his eyes on Justin as his voice trailed off, Shane marveled that Brian seemed quite happy to let him run the show for now. Wait a minute – term paper?

“What paper? The one our dear misguided Miss Clegg graded?”

Justin nodded, Brian was immobile, his eyes on Michael. Michael didn’t look up once; he was digging into his fettuccine like they were his last meal.

Shane shook his head. At least Michael wasn't talking with his mouth full, for a change.

“You don't need that old term paper anymore, do you, Brian,” Debbie said. “So it’s no big deal.”

“It was a big deal then,” Shane said. He remembered the bruises he had seen on Brian the next day, and Brian claiming he had fallen down the stairs. Shane had never believed those stories, and often enough, he had found out the truth later. 

Jack Kinney always took his many frustrations out on his son.

“Some jewelry,” Justin added.

Debbie shook her head at her son. “Really, sweetie. I’m sure Brian would have bought you some trinket you liked, if you’d asked.”

“Debbie. He didn’t want his own things. He wanted Brian’s things,” Justin said. “Did you wear them, Michael? The rings, the bracelets? Did you wear any of Brian’s things?”

Michael shook his head vehemently. “Of course not. I wouldn’t have dared.”

“Pathetic,” Shane heard Brian mutter.

Justin drew a deep breath.

“You understand me, don’t you, Brian? You understand that I just wanted to be a part of your life, right,” Michael implored, puppy-eyes finally fixed on Brian.

Brian shook his head. “I don’t understand you at all,” he said distantly.

“I love you, Brian. That’s all you need to know. That’s all you need to understand. I’ve always loved you,” Michael said pleadingly. “All you have to do is love me back.”

Brian actually took a step back. “I don't love you. Never will.”

“You said you'd love me forever. When we were stuck on the turn pike, on our way to New York.”

“That was a lifetime ago. A different life. A life where you didn’t lie and steal,” Brian replied icily.

“When did you go to New York,” Dave asked.

“We had to go after Justin. He had Brian's credit card,” Ted explained eagerly.

Justin shook his head, laughing softly. He put an arm around Brian’s waist. “Right, Ted. That’s why Brian came after me. Because I had his credit card. What kind of an accountant are you?”

Brian shared a smile with Justin that easily excluded them all. 

Shane smirked to himself.

“What do you mean,” Molly asked.

Brian winked at her. “The card could’ve been canceled with one phone call.”

Molly smirked at Justin. “Craig would've stranded you in New York without a cent; you know that, don't you? I guess Brian does like you. A bit.”

“A bit. A tiny little bit,” Brian shrugged.

“See, you said it yourself. You only like him a little bit. Brian, look at me. Take me! We can be happy together!”

“I’m sure Ben is really glad to hear that,” Brian said coldly.

Michael shrugged negligently. “He already said he wanted a divorce.”

Justin looked at Brian, his face serious. “Shut up, Michael.”

“Just because you won't let go of him, you little piece of blond boy ass!” Michael screeched, jumping up. He sounded a lot like his mother, Shane realized. “When will you understand that Brian belongs with me?”

“Never,” Justin said firmly.

“Brian. He’s not even your type,” Michael whined. “You never trick with blondes.”

Ken snorted. “Right. Brian tricks with dark and dangerous, but has relationships with cute blondes. They’re so not his type!”

“I can color my hair,” Michael insisted. “If that's what it takes.”

“Don't you dare, your hair is beautiful as it is!” Debbie wagged her finger at him.

“It's not the hair, Michael,” Brian shook his head. “It’s you.”

“And we have a history. You’ll never have that with your boy toy. Think of all the good times we’ve had together,” Michael insisted, as if he hadn’t even heard Ken, or Brian.

“Yes,” Shane said grimly. “Think of all the good times, Brian. Like when Michael lured me into the toilets, saying you had twisted your ankle, and then locked me in so we couldn’t walk home together. You needed Brian with you, didn't you, Michael.”

“I always wanted to be with Brian,” Michael said. “What’s wrong with that?”

Shane stood up. “What’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with that is that you needed Brian because you had pissed off those thugs, and you knew they were going to ambush you!”

“Shane,” Brian said faintly, “be quiet.”

“You never told anybody, did you, Brian? Not even Debbie?”

“I didn't tell anybody. Certainly not Debbie. I’d prefer it if you didn’t, either.”

Shane folded his arms across his chest. “Debbie needs educating. Your so-called friends need educating.”

“So you’re pissed because my boy once locked you in a toilet,” Debbie laughed. “Big deal!”

Shane shook his head. “Those jerks had it in for your son. Only, Brian was with him. And Brian always stood up for icky little Mickey. I wouldn't have. But Brian did. Do you want to know what your son did? Your son, who loves Brian oh so much?”

Shane drew a deep breath, remembering that afternoon. Remembering all too clearly. “I was forced to watch from behind a fucking barred window as five older boys beat up on my brave Brian. Because you know what, Debbie? Your son is a coward. Michael cowered behind that dumpster, and left Brian to fight his battle for him. Alone.”

Shane watched as Justin moved even closer to Brian, studying his face. Brian shook his head, his eyes unreadable. Justin nodded and leaned his forehead against Brian’s side. Brian put an arm around his shoulders.

“Michael was even too scared to run across the yard and let me out. He needn’t have done anything else. He knew I would have helped Brian in a heartbeat, but his cowardly legs just wouldn’t carry him across the yard.”

“But they would’ve seen me, and beat up on me, too,” Michael moaned.

Shane compressed his lips. “I’ve always despised you.”

“I remember when I was helping Hunter that night, when he got beaten up? You were just standing there, yelling at me not to get involved. I thought you didn’t give a shit about Hunter, but now I realize you didn’t give a shit about me, either,” Ben said sadly.

“There’s more,” Shane said angrily. It felt like the proverbial dam had burst, and he needed to say these things. Needed to say them now, after more than twenty years, or suffocate on them.

“When they finally left Brian alone, almost unconscious and bleeding like anything, Michael went to phone Jack. Not you Debbie, or my mother. Jack. Then he finally let me out, just before Jack arrived on the scene. And do you know what? Jack took one look at Brian, kicked him in the ribs a few times and yelled at him because he hadn’t given as good as he got. After all, tiny Michael had got out of the fray without even a scratch!”

“Shut up, Shane,” Brian said weakly.

But Shane couldn’t shut up, not anymore. “And then Jack drove Michael home, and told Brian to walk, because he needed the exercise.”

Justin moved to stand in front of Brian, looking up into his face for a long moment. Shane could see the tears streaming down his face.

Gently, Brian brushed a thumb across Justin's cheek. “That was twenty years ago. What's the point in crying now,” he murmured.

Justin shook his head, put both arms around Brian and pressed his face against his chest. A hand on his nape, Brian pulled him closer into a protective embrace, and mouthed, “Satisfied?” at Shane.

Shane could see that Justin was shaking, and now Brian was angry with him. Not for himself, but on Justin’s behalf.

Shane was amazed. He hadn’t seen Brian like this before. He took loving care of the kids, not giving a shit what other people thought of his interaction with them. But he had not seen him like that with an adult, not even with Judson. Judson had been right, with Justin it was no holds barred. That was why Justin had the power to cut into Brian so deeply, because Brian was completely open to him. How stupid of Brian, how dangerous!

Quickly, Shane looked across at Jennifer. Could she see it, the difference between Brian being fond of somebody, and Brian in love? She was leaning against Tucker, tears in her eyes.

“That wasn't nice of you, Michael,” Debbie said feebly.

“No. Then again, when did Michael ever do nice?” Shane spat. “As soon as he got the story out of Michael, your brother came to pick us up. Vic and my mother took care of Brian, while your sweet spineless son sat at home eating spaghetti!”

“That will do, Shane,” Brian said warningly. “Sit down. Shut up.”

“Or else, huh, Brian. If that's all there was in that box,” Ted said with a yawn, apparently losing interest.

“No,” Justin said, his face still hidden in Brian's chest. “There’s more. Like a silk scarf, and a baseball glove.”

Shane shot a quick look at Brian. “A baseball glove? Not the baseball glove?”

Brian returned the glance, the darkened hazel full of remembered agony.

Debbie laughed. “You never even played baseball, Brian.”

“He did,” Shane said.

And Brian had been good. Very good. Until the day his father broke his wrist for losing his glove. That had been on a Friday. Brian had had to wait until Monday before he could get out of the house. The school nurse had sent him to hospital to get an x-ray and have the bones set, and later that afternoon, Brian had confided in Erin that she probably hadn’t believed his story that he had fallen off his bike. He was worried the nurse might phone his parents, and then there’d be more trouble in store for him. Erin had locked herself in her room for the rest of the day, crying. The next day, she had spoken to the school nurse, and that was the end of that.

Shane had broken his arm at college, and was still wondering to this day how Brian had coped with the excruciating pain for more than two days.

 

He was startled from his memories when two men walked onto the patio. Cops, he realized belatedly.

“Mr. Schmidt? Theodore Schmidt?”

“That’s me,” Ted said, standing up. “What's wrong, did something happen to my mother?”

Brian raised an eyebrow, and Leda crossed her arms. Daphne shook her head, and Judson frowned.

“What could possibly have happened to your mother? Didn't you take three days off last month to bury her,” Brian sounded very calm.

The calm before the storm, Shane thought. Fuck Schmidt.

Ted looked at Brian and shrugged. “I needed some personal time. I’m entitled to personal time!”

“You’ll get lots of personal time where you’re going,” Brian said.

Ted stared at him.

“Mr. Schmidt, you're under arrest. Anything you say…”

“Arrest? Why am I under arrest?”

“Embezzlement,” Brian said. “Did you think I’d let you get away with stealing from Kinnetik indefinitely?”

Ted shook his head. “I didn't steal anything.”

“You transferred all the monthly salaries into a special account, collected the daily interest and then transferred the money to my employees two days later. You stole two days’ worth of interest from everybody working at Kinnetik,” Brian said. “And this is the third time it’s happened. The first time, I thought it was a glitch. The second time, I warned you.”

Brian shrugged. “The third time, you do time.”

“I didn't do anybody any harm,” Ted insisted.

Emmett shook his head, and Shane saw he had tears in his eyes. “Be quiet, Teddy. Get yourself a lawyer.”

Ted looked at Melanie. “Mel, help me.”

Melanie studied his face for a long moment, and then looked at Brian.

Brian shrugged again. “It’s a free country.”

Melanie kept her eyes on Brian, and Shane thought her expression was pleading. “Help me out here, Brian. Tell me what you want.”

Justin tilted his head back and looked up at Brian. Brian returned the gaze, and Shane wondered what he saw in Justin’s eyes.

His eyes still on Justin, Brian said, “This once, Mel. I’d rather you didn’t.”

Melanie relaxed. “I can’t, Ted. Conflict of interests.”

Incredulous, Ted stared at Brian. “You asshole. I should have remembered you can do your own accounting!”

“There are a lot of things you should have remembered,” Brian said, a tinge of regret in his voice. “And before I forget – you're fired. Obviously.”

One of the cops put handcuffs on Ted. “You’ll have to come with me. You can phone for a lawyer from the precinct.”

Justin put both arms around Brian’s neck and whispered something to him. Brian shook his head.

The second cop spoke for the first time. “Mr. Novotny-Bruckner? Michael Charles Novotny-Bruckner?”

Michael jumped up. “Brian! You didn’t tell the police!”

Brian shook his head. “No. I left that decision to your son.”

“My son? I don't have a son,” Michael protested. 

Ben drew a shuddering breath and lifted his shoulders as though he were cold.

“Mr. Novotny-Bruckner, you’re under arrest for robbery.”

“Just because he stole your mail,” Debbie said. “And some jewelry? Brian, you can’t do that to your best friend! That’s my son we’re talking about!”

Brian looked at her without answering.

“Melanie, you have a duty to help Michael. He’s your girl’s father,” Debbie said desperately. “Do something!”

“I’ll do nothing,” Melanie said coldly. “Michael had it coming. Besides, if he doesn't have a son, I can probably safely assume he has no daughter.”

“About time Brian saw the light,” Calvin said calmly. “Well done, Brian.”

“You also stole mail and jewelry,” the cop asked. “Do you admit to that?”

Michael nodded, then said, “You can’t send me to prison, Brian! That’s not fair!”

“Robbing the loft wasn't fair,” Brian said. “Allowing me to believe it was Justin's fault wasn’t fair.”

“Hold it,” Ben said. “Robbing the loft?”

Justin nodded, exchanging a quick look with Daphne. 

“I told you you’d set the alarm,” Daphne said triumphantly. “I was right!”

“Why did you rob Brian,” Ben asked. He sounded drained, and incredulous.

“To get the boy toy out of there,” Michael said darkly.

“Be quiet, Mikey,” Brian warned.

“What did you do with Brian’s things,” Debbie wanted to know.

Michael shrugged. “I hid some at your place, and I sold the rest.”

Debbie put a hand to her mouth, closing her eyes and shaking her head. She sank into a chair, muttering to herself.

Michael turned to Brian. “Don’t you see? I did it for you! If you hadn't gone after Justin then, maybe he would’ve gotten himself killed in New York.”

Brian looked murderous, let go of Justin and stood between him and Michael. “Shut the fuck up.”

“No,” Michael shrieked. “I won’t shut up! I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again! Justin is a selfish little shit! He uses you, and he takes from you and he never gives back a thing! And instead of thanking you on his knees that you saved his life, he left you, again and again. First for the fiddler, then for Hollywood.”

Jennifer made a move as if to get to her feet, but Tucker pulled her back down. Shane saw Molly ball her fists, and Daphne, too.

Still standing behind him, Justin put a hand on Brian's left arm, whispering something Shane didn't catch. Brian looked over his shoulder at him, and relaxed his stance.

“And instead of kissing your feet for wanting to marry him, he left you again! He should have died in the blast at Babylon. Better still, you should have left him on that garage floor, bleeding to death!”

Now everybody jumped up, there was a commotion of angry exclamations and outbursts.

Shane hadn’t even seen Brian move, that left hook came out of nowhere. Michael’s head snapped back and he dropped to the ground as if in slow motion.

For a moment, Shane was terrified that the blow had been enough to break his neck, but then he heard Michael sob.

Justin’s features had hardened, and for the first time, Shane saw that behind the facade of the pretty boy lived a formidable man.

Shane realized that Brian was obviously well acquainted with that man, and it was part of what drew him to Justin. Left to his own devices, Justin was plainly an equal to Brian's power.

“Let me look at that hand, you cut your knuckles. Did you know that you’re much more likely to get an infection from a human bite than from the bite of a dog? That’s because we have so many bacteria in our mouth,” Justin pulled Brian to the kitchen door by his wrist.

“With all the filth that guy has been spouting, you’ll be getting an infection from him for sure,” Matt said, an arm around Daphne’s shoulders. She was crying.

“Right you are, Sunshine. It wouldn’t do for Brian to get lockjaw, now that you’re back with him,” Debbie smirked.

Shane watched the changes in Jennifer’s face. She had given Debbie sympathetic looks, but now her face had become hard and angry.

Brian snorted a laugh. “The public service announcement is back. Do you have any idea how much I missed that?”

Justin turned and gave Brian a bright smile, the traces of tears still on his cheeks. “You missed me? Really?”

“Don’t push it, sonny-boy,” Brian warned, sounding amused.

“You so give a shit, Brian Kinney gives a shit,” Justin sing-songed as he drew Brian into the house. 

Brian laughed.

Shane shook his head.


	20. Twenty

“Did you see that;” Michael wailed at the cop, from his prone position on the floor. “He hit me! Brian Kinney hit me!”

He sounded like a kid in a schoolyard, telling on a friend. And Brian had put up with that kind of thing for twenty years?

“I didn't see anything,” the cop said coldly after exchanging a quick look with Carl. He reached for a clean serviette and handed it to Michael. “Here you are. You have a nosebleed, that’s all.”

Michael finally scrambled to his feet. “Mom, you won’t let me go to prison, will you?”

Debbie looked at him, her face white. “After what you just said to Sunshine? After all that poor boy has been through? After all we’ve been through with him?”

“After all he and Brian have been through,” Emmett corrected. “Oh my god! That's what you said, isn’t it? Michael, that’s what you said at the party, when Brian hit you, isn’t it?”

Michael lifted his chin belligerently. “Yes. And I’ll repeat it as often as necessary!”

“Well,” the cop shrugged and put handcuffs on him. “You won’t be repeating it here. My partner is probably already wondering why this is taking so long. Let's go.”

Michael put up a weak struggle, but the cop easily dragged him away.

“Debbie. I’ll drive you into town,” Carl said. “I can’t believe Hunter went to the police! What a guy!”

Ben rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Hunter has become a very principled young man. I’d have expected no less.”

Debbie wiped tears from her eyes. “I have to talk to Sunshine first, apologize to him.”

“You'd do well to apologize to Brian, too,” Jennifer said warningly. “Justin won’t accept your apology if you don't.”

“Brian doesn't care,” Debbie said. “He doesn’t give a shit. Other people would maybe get a little annoyed, but Brian has to put on a huge show. He never does anything quietly. How can he send Michael to prison, they’ve been best friends for years!”

Carl got to his feet. “You need to do some serious thinking, Debbie. I think we should leave. If you don’t see that you owe Brian even more of an apology than you do Justin, you’re not the person I thought you were. I’m not going to let you add to the hullabaloo.”

“We’ve really had more than enough excitement for one night,” Judson said. “Give it a few days, Debbie.”

“You’re not at home here anymore,” Debbie said angrily. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do!”

Carl grabbed her arm. “Enough, Debbie. I mean it,” he said sternly. “Somebody please tell Brian I’ll come by to pick up our stuff.”

Judson nodded. “You got it. Poker at mine next Wednesday?”

Carl smiled at him. “I’m in. Gotta rehash those fireworks!”

Laughing, Judson nodded. “Yeah, right. Give us a call; let us know how you’re getting on.”

“I’ll do that. Bye, everybody,” Carl hauled Debbie along, who was grumbling under her breath.

Emmett exchanged a quick look with Calvin, who nodded. They both got up. “Well, this was simply fabulous,” Emmett smiled. “We’ve had a great time. But now we really must be going.”

“Don’t you desert Brian,” Shane said. “Do you really want to stick it out with Ted and Michael?”

“It has nothing to do with them.” Emmett shook his head. “I don’t want anything to do with them after what we just found out. But I also don’t want to be a constant reminder of tonight’s events. I’ll write Brian an email and explain.”

“Do you really think we need a reminder,” Daphne said. “Stay, Emmett.”

Mel nodded. “I think Brian would appreciate that. Show him that you give a shit.”

Emmett bit his lip. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure,” Shane said.

“Yes,” Mel added.

Jim smiled. “I guess I’ll go and see how Doogie Howser MD is doing on that hand. It did look like a nasty nick.”

Matt shrugged. “Brian probably cut himself on the forked tongue of that asshole.”

 

Jim walked into the kitchen to find Justin pressing an ice-pack against Brian’s hand.

“I wish you hadn’t touched that rat. Are your tetanus shots up to date,” Jim heard him ask.

“I keep horses,” Brian sounded as if he were rolling his eyes. “Of course my shots are up to date.”

“How’s the hand,” Jim asked, stepping closer. Brian did roll his eyes at him.

“I cleaned the cut,” Justin said, still focused on his task. “But it’s already swelling up.”

“Let me see,” Jim demanded, praying silently that Brian wouldn’t have to fight an infection on top of everything else.

Sighing, Brian pulled his hand out of Justin’s grip and it held out for inspection. “I’m fine, Jim. Really.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that,” Jim gently took Brian's wrist and turned his hand into the light for a better look. “What did you use to clean the cut?”

Justin pointed at the bottle; Jim glanced at the benzalkonium chloride solution and nodded. “Good. Brian. Your hand is swollen from the blow, not from the cut. I didn’t know you were a boxer.”

Brian made a face. “Try being gay and attending community school.”

“Did you hit his nose?”

“His jaw. Didn’t want to break anything. Can you imagine Debbie if I had?”

Justin wrapped his arms around his waist, and Brian slipped his right arm around his shoulders and looked into his face.

Jim had the distinct feeling he wasn't needed. “Keep some ice on that hand,” he advised. “I’ll go back outside.”

 

“That’s why you hit Michael that time?”

Brian sighed. “Don’t, Justin.”

“I was watching,” Justin confessed. “I know you were trying to get rid of him, and he just kept at you.”

“Water under the bridge,” Brian said. “I think we both need to go wash up.”

Justin held tight. “I’m sorry, Brian.”

“Sorry is bullshit,” Brian said. “You didn’t do anything to apologize for.”

Justin raised his eyebrows. “I think I do. I made such a mess of everything.”

Brian tilted his head. “I thought we had decided we both fucked up and leave it at that?”

“We had, but…” Justin gestured helplessly. “All this?”

“Justin. Listen to me. Are you listening?”

Justin nodded.

Brian ran a gentle thumb across his cheekbone. “’All this’ is the result of Michael’s mendacity. You didn’t do anything to cause it. Let it go, Justin.”

Justin sighed and leaned back into Brian’s embrace.

 

As they had all been waiting for Brian and him, everybody’s eyes went to Justin when he stepped out onto the terrace.

Justin smirked. “I so love being the center of attention. Listen, guys, pretend we’re back to normal. And leave Brian alone. No crummy jokes, no snappy one-liners. He’s had enough of those for one day.”

“Where is Brian,” Jennifer asked, her concern evident. Shane really did like that woman.

“Fetching the kids,” Justin explained. He looked at Mel. “Can you save the comments until tomorrow?”

Mel smiled. “I don't even have any comments. Don’t worry, I’ll make nice.”

Justin nodded. “Where’s Debbie? We have to get her out of here.”

“Already gone,” Ben smiled. “Carl is a decent sort.”

“Good. I’m going to try and get Brian to eat, so would you all please get yourselves something to nibble on?”

Shane tilted his head. “Going to manage Brian, are you, Justin?”

Justin returned his look calmly. “You can either help, or leave well alone. Up to you.”

“Ooh,” Emmett enthused, “Justin is back. You go, honey.”

Justin smiled. “Where did Judson go, I need a word.”

Shane turned. “I didn’t even see him leave. He’ll be back. Listen, I’ll put the fire on, let’s see whether we can get Brian to sit in front of that.”

Justin nodded. “Good idea. I’ll go find a sweater for him, just in case he wants to sit elsewhere.”

Shane smiled to himself and busied himself with the open fireplace.

“What was all that about,” Jennifer asked.

Shane looked up. “Brian’s always cold after a scene.”

“I never noticed that,” Mel said, sounding surprised.

“You wouldn’t,” Shane said. “You’d need to touch him to know.”

“Well,” Tucker said, getting up. “Let's do what Justin suggested. What do you want to eat, Jen?”

Jennifer thought for a moment. “I guess I’ll try the Jamaican chicken. It looks delicious.”

“Me, too,” Molly said. 

Soon, everybody was crowded around the buffet, where the staff had been talking quietly amongst themselves. 

 

Justin walked into Brian's wardrobe to find Judson packing a few things into a bag. “What are you doing,” he asked, even though he had a feeling he knew.

Judson smiled and pointed. “Sweaters over there. You can probably get him into the blue cashmere, it's his favorite.”

Justin nodded and grabbed the pullover. “So, what are you doing?”

“Making room for you,” Judson said, sounding amused.

Justin turned to look at him. “Shit. I feel rotten.”

Judson shook his head. “No need. I knew from the start Brian wasn't over you. Now that I’ve seen you together, I know why.”

“So, you’re just walking out,” Justin asked, fighting disbelief.

“Don't say anything about giving Brian up just like that, or I might reconsider,” Judson warned, grinning.

Justin lifted his shoulders. “Maybe that's not what Brian wants.”

“It's not what he wants,” Judson admitted softly. “Even Brian Kinney has a very deeply hidden wish for peace and quiet and smooth sailing. It's what he needs, though.”

‘You give them something they might not want, so you need to figure out whether the need is greater than the want-not,’ Justin heard Brian’s voice say. 

When had he said that, and to whom? 

Friday evening, to Gus. Was that really only a few days ago?

Nodding, Justin said, “You think like Brian. Maybe he needs that?”

Judson swallowed. “Don’t try and talk me out of it, Justin. That's hardly fair. I know Brian needs you, and I know you want him. I have a feeling you need him, but you’re not ready to acknowledge that.”

“My life’s a mess,” Justin sighed. “I’m not sure what Brian wants from me. I do need Brian. I want to be with him. I miss him like crazy when we’re not together. But we can't seem to get it right.”

“Too many people butting in,” Judson said. “Stop listening. Go with your first instinct. You have good instincts about Brian, we’ve seen that. I’m here for you if you want help, or if you need to vent. I know Brian can drive you up the wall.”

Justin nodded slowly. “Thank you. You're still Brian's friend, aren’t you?”

“He won't lose me,” Judson said. “And if you run away again, I swear I’ll follow you and drag your cute little bubble butt back to him. By that pretty blond scalp of yours!”

Justin closed his eyes for a moment. “It’d probably be easier if you stopped me leaving in the first place.”

“You got it,” Judson laughed. “I’ll tie you to his bed until you come to your senses.”

“Kinky,” Justin grinned. “I like it.”

Surprising him, Judson stepped closer and pulled him into a strong hug. “You’re not alone, Justin. I’ll help. Shane will help. Ken and Dave, and Jim - we’re all betting on the house. You’ll get it right this time.”

Remembering the bets their so-called friends had taken against the success of their relationship in Debbie’s kitchen that one evening, Justin returned the embrace. He hoped Brian knew that he had people who loved him. True love, not the sham that Michael’s affection had become.

After a moment, Judson drew back. “Go get your stuff and move in. Nobody will notice, they're too busy hovering over Brian.”

“Maybe Brian would prefer it if I didn’t,” Justin said uncertainly.

Judson shook his head. “Don’t let him sleep alone, Justin. Not tonight. The demons are already under the bed, waiting for him.”

Justin paused, then nodded. “You’re right. Where are you going?”

Judson shrugged. “I’ll find a place. Don’t worry about me.”

“I can't say I’m sorry,” Justin said hesitantly. “But I am. Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense,” Judson smiled. “You’re a nice guy, Justin.”

 

Shane watched surreptitiously as Brian came outside, a kid on each hand. Where was Justin?

“Some fish please, Daddy,” Gus said. “I like fish. And some salad.”

Brian nodded and filled his plate. “Here you are, enjoy!”

“I will,” Gus grinned. “Roar! Roar! I’m a voracious wolf tonight!”

“Voracious, seriously?” Brian laughed.

Gus nodded eagerly. “I promised, didn't I? I keep my promises, just like you do. Voracious is my new word for the day, Daddy! And I taught JR to say ravenous.”

“I'm really proud of you, that's a great new word. I was wondering earlier where JR had learned to say ravenous. Well done, Gus, on both counts,” Brian said earnestly. “So. What about you, princess?”

“Yes,” JR smiled at him. “Me, too.”

“You, too, what?”

“Vo… vora… that,” JR said.

“Vo-ra-cious,” Brian said slowly, repeating himself. “Can you say it? Voracious?”

“Voracious,” JR said. “And ravenous!”

“Well done, JR! I'm very proud of you, too. We’ll have to do something about that. How about some chicken?”

“Like chicken,” JR beamed at Brian. “And fries.”

“Fries again? Look, I’ll give you some fries, and you’ll try some of these honeyed carrots for me, okay? I know you like honey.”

JR nodded. “I’ll do that. For you. Because I love you. So much!” She spread her arms.

Brian smiled, put the plate down and swept the little girl up into a hug. “Love you too, sweetheart!”

He carried JR and her plate to the table. “Where do you want to sit?”

Melanie had moved closer to the fireplace, leaving Lindsay to stare into her glass with a morose expression. “Come and sit with me, JR.”

JR looked undecided, shooting a quick look at Lindsay, then glancing at Brian from under her lashes. “Dada comes with me?”

Brian nodded. “Sure, I’ll sit with you.”

Gus followed them and sat next to Melanie.

Mel winked at Shane, and Shane grinned to himself. She wasn’t so bad, after all.

 

Judson sat next to him. “Quite the spectacle, eh,” he murmured in an undertone.

Shane sighed. “Where will you sleep?”

Judson shot him a surprised look. “What?”

“I know you. You got out of the way for boy toy.”

Judson shook his head. “You need to stop calling him that. Justin is anything but. Did you really think Brian would fall for somebody who can't hold their own against him?”

“I guess not,” Shane sighed. “So, where?”

Judson grinned. “I had thought about one of the suddenly empty guest-rooms.”

“You don't want to sleep on those sheets,” Shane said immediately.

“No, I don’t. Mind a room-mate?”

Shane smiled. “Depends. Is he cute?”

“Very cute,” Dave grinned. He had obviously overheard part of their conversation. “If you don’t want him, we’ll make room for him.”

“He’s pretty damn gorgeous,” Ken nodded, sitting down with his plate of Chicken Milanese. “Notice how nobody wants fettuccine anymore? I wonder why that is?”

They all laughed. 

“Shame about you and Brian,” Ken said, serious again.

Judson shrugged easily. “You’ve seen them. I never stood a chance.”

“I’m afraid you didn’t,” Dave agreed candidly. “I can’t make up my mind whether that relationship was created in heaven or concocted in hell!”

“Heads in the clouds, roots in the past,” Judson smiled. “They’ll do it, this time.”

“What makes you so sure,” Dave wanted to know.

“We’ll help,” Judson said confidently.

“Oh, we will, will we,” Ken smirked. “What if we don’t feel like it?”

“Want a Cherokee after your scalp,” Judson showed his teeth in a dangerous smile.

“Oops. We’ll help, we’ll help,” Shane said, pretending to be terrified.

“I thought you'd see it my way,” Judson said, digging into his spinach salad with an appetite.

 

Justin came out of the house and draped a sweater across Brian's shoulders.

“Don’t argue,” Jennifer heard him say softly.

Brian looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, but pulled the sweater into a more comfortable position.

Justin smiled. “I’m going to get myself something to eat. What do you want?”

Jennifer suppressed her smile. Clever.

Brian hesitated, his expression darkening slightly. It didn't seem to faze Justin in the least. 

He adopted a bored waiter’s tone, and Jennifer suddenly wondered how her sassy son had coped at the diner. “Trouble making up your mind, Sir? May I help? I recommend the smoked salmon, it’s delicious. Or maybe some Jamaican Jerk Chicken?”

Brian made a face. “Jerk yourself. Salmon, please.”

Justin smiled. “Good choice. I recommend Evian to go with that, it’s a very good year.”

Brian laughed and got up, shrugging into the sweater. “No way. I think there’s some Pinot Noir in the icebox.”

“Red wine with fish,” Tucker said, “What got into you, Brian?”

Brian took the bottle out and opened it, bringing it back to the table with some glasses. “Didn’t I tell you? I went to a wine-tasting in France last year. Apparently, in Europe, they’ve been breaking the ‘only white wine with fish’ rule for a while. A fruity red wine actually goes really well with smoked salmon, especially when it’s been cooled. Adds something new to the taste.”

Tucker shook his head. “I think I’m too scared to try that.”

Shane grinned. “You’re missing something. I was doubtful, too, but the combination is pretty stunning.”

Justin returned to the table with two plates. Jennifer saw that he had gone back to the Jamaican chicken, but left the fettuccine. 

“Try the Verdicchio to go with that,” Brian suggested. “How about you, Jennifer?”

Jennifer nodded.

 

For a while, there was idle chatter, people enjoying the food and the company. Jennifer thought that this was exactly the kind of thing Brian needed, and maybe had hoped for.

She glanced at her watch, wondering whether that could be right. It wasn’t even eight yet.

At least Brian had eaten most of the smoked salmon Justin had put on his plate, and Justin seemed well satisfied with that. He had filled a glass with Evian and put it next to Brian’s plate, and Jennifer smiled when she saw that Brian only had two glasses of wine and then stuck to the water.

After watching Brian for a while, JR suddenly got up and determinedly marched over to speak to the server. The woman laughed, glanced over at Brian, and handed her a Popsicle.

“She’ll be big and fat with all the sweets she eats,” Lindsay grumbled.

Gus shot her a dirty look, glancing at Brian.

“Christ, Lindsay, will you leave the kid alone? She’s downright skinny. They’re on holiday, let them have some fun,” Brian shook his head.

JR came up to Brian, wordlessly handing him the ice-cream. Brian grinned and unwrapped it, offering it back to her. “Here you go, JR, enjoy!”

JR shook her head. “Dada has boo-boo,” she explained importantly, pointing to Brian’s knuckles. “You need ice on that.”

Brian bit his lip, eyes suddenly damp. “Thank you so much, JR! That’s awfully nice of you!”

“Kiss better?” JR offered solicitously, head tilted.

“Yes please! Hold this for me, Justin,” Brian gave Justin the Popsicle and pulled JR into his lap. JR peppered his face with kisses, and Brian smiled widely.

“Thank you, JR, I feel much better now!” Brian gently ruffled the girl’s hair. “You are such a darling!”

JR nodded, clearly very satisfied with herself. “Ice-cream now, it’s vanilla. I know dada likes vanilla.”

“Dada does,” Shane smirked. “That’s news to me!”

“Who would’ve guessed,” Matt grinned. “Vanilla, Brian? Really?”

“We’re talking ice-cream here, boys!” Emmett laughed. “Aren’t we?”

It took Jennifer a moment to catch on, and then she felt herself blush. Molly was frowning, and looking to Leda for help, who mouthed, “Later!” Jennifer hoped they’d forget.

“Dada has vanilla at the parlor,” JR explained.

“And you remember what I like,” Brian said, his delight evident. “Thank you, again.”

He took the ice-cream off Justin and began to lick, making an appreciative sound that clearly wasn’t lost on Justin, who shifted uncomfortably. Jennifer rolled her eyes.

JR grinned at Brian. “Boo-boo all better soon, Dada!”

“It’s already much better,” Brian smiled. “You’re a great help! Did you eat all your carrots?"

“Nice carrots,” JR said. “Yummy!”

Brian nodded. “I thought you’d like those. I see Gus has finished eating. Why don’t you go get yourself a Popsicle, and bring one for your brother, too.”

JR slanted a look at Lindsay, shaking her head sadly. “Can’t. Mom says I’ll be fat, like Jane.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “And is Jane fat?”

Lindsay giggled. “She’s not fat. Just don’t take her up Troy Hill, cos she’ll roll down!”

Brian’s eyes narrowed angrily, and he frowned at her. “When we had Gus, we said we’d bring him up without stupid prejudices. What became of that?”

Gus snorted. “Mom is stupid. Jane is sick, and we’re not.”

Melanie sighed. “Jane has Hashimoto, the poor thing. Go get that ice-cream, JR, you won’t get fat, I promise!”

JR looked at Brian. “Dada promise?”

“I promise,” Brian said instantly.

JR stuck out her tongue at Lindsay and ran over to get the Popsicles.

“Nice,” Lindsay muttered. “Is anybody going to tell her off?”

“No,” Brian said sternly. “I’m going to tell you off, once you’re sober again!”

Jennifer saw that Gus quickly hid his grin behind his hand.

Brian winked at him; and Melanie took a deep breath.

JR came back with the Popsicles, and Brian and the kids contentedly had their ice-cream together.

Jennifer noticed Judson leaving the patio, and after finishing his ice-cream, Brian followed him.

Justin talked to Gus, quietly. From his tone, Jennifer guessed he was answering questions.

Jennifer sighed to herself. Brian had seemed so content with Judson. Still, she hadn't seen that kind of expression when he was with Judson. That softening of his face, the light in the hazel eyes – that was reserved for her Justin. If Justin fucked up this time, she’d kill him.

Tucker smiled at her. “Don’t get the hatchet out just yet, Jen. Give the boy a chance first,” he murmured quietly.

Ken caught her eye and winked. 

 

Judson watched Brian walk into the room, observing his gait and the set of his shoulders.

“You ought to get some sleep,” he suggested.

Brian snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Judson shrugged. “What’s stopping you?”

Brian rolled his eyes. “We have guests.”

“You have guests,” Judson corrected softly. No point in delaying the inevitable.

Brian frowned and drew his lips into his mouth. “So I got that right? You ditch me and Justin moves in?”

“Technically, you’re ditching me,” Judson said. “I just made the decision for you.”

“You make it easy,” Brian said quietly, stepping closer. “How do you know that’s the decision I would have made?”

“It's the right decision,” Judson replied, drawing Brian into a loose embrace. “You’ve been wanting him back ever since he got on that plane to NY.”

Brian sighed and returned the hug. “But I’m losing you.”

“Come off it,” Judson smiled. “Other people go from being friends to being friends with benefits. We simply do it the other way round. You’re not losing anything. You’re winning Justin back.”

Brian drew a deep breath. “Christ, I love you.”

“I know that. But Justin – that’s something more than love.”

“You’re staying with Shane, yes?”

Justin smirked. “Jealous?” He knew better.

Brian inclined his head. “I want to make sure you're alright. Both of you.”

“Don’t worry about me, Bri. I knew this day was coming. I also know you would’ve preferred to wait until you come back in September. But Justin needs to know where he stands. So do you.”

“And what about you? What do you need?”

Judson shrugged. “I need to get over you. It’ll be easier knowing you’re out of town and with Justin.”

Brian sighed heavily. “Did you tell him to move in, or was that his idea?”

“I told him. You’re sincere, Brian. Try as you might, you can't hide what you feel for him. And I know you have been trying. For once, the feeling is stronger than you are. Be selfish for a change. Make sure you get what you need.”

“What do I need?”

Judson grinned. “Justin. I think that's pretty much all you need. The rest –” he gestured to indicate the house and everything in it, “– is just the icing on the cake.”

Squeezing his waist, Brian whispered, “Thank you. For not making it as difficult as it could’ve been.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve easy. I’ve had a wonderful time with you, and that’s something I’ll have forever.”

Brian leaned back and looked into his eyes. “I would have been lonely without you.”

Judson smiled. “I’m not going anywhere, Brian. Unless Justin needs me to leave.”

“I’m not letting you go,” Brian said, tightening his hold. “Justin isn’t like that.”

“Look, I would have agreed to a threesome, you know that. And with your marketing abilities, you probably could’ve sold the idea to Justin.”

Brian sighed. “I think he’d be able to cope, actually. But I can’t. I’d be with you and wonder whether he's jealous. I’d spend time with him and wonder whether you need to be with me.”

Judson nodded. “I’m glad you know that. You’d kill yourself trying to give each of us enough of Brian Kinney. You’re too sensitive to live like that.”

Brian smiled weakly. “Don’t tell anybody. They’ll think I’ve gone soft.”

“Drop it,” Judson said firmly, pulling Brian closer. “We know you. You don't want the old facade with us, remember? No public image to protect. We love you the way you are, for who you are. Fucking keep that in mind. Don’t go back into hiding just because of a handful of jerks.”

“You give such great pep-talks,” Brian murmured, leaning into his hold.

Judson laughed softly. “That’s why you hired me.”

Their eyes met, and, slowly, they moved together for a tender kiss. They broke apart reluctantly.

Judson watched the shift of emotions in the hazel eyes he had learned to read, and understood that easy was still difficult for Brian. Smiling, he started to hum.

Brian burst into laughter. “Christ, that’s so camp! That even beats Emmett!”

Judson shrugged and took a few steps, pulling Brian with him. Brian shook his head, but took the lead in their impromptu dance, both of them hearing the melody and the unsung words in their minds –

… before you turn and walk out on me… if this is the last kiss, if this is the last touch, if this is the last time I can ever be holding you… if this is the last embrace – I can never forget your face… I’ll get used to it, I’ll get through this somehow, some way... I won’t stand in your way, I won’t even begin to say that you never looked better never looked so good to me… though I asked this before I won’t ever ask anything more… just close your eyes and please do this for me… if this is the last kiss, if this is the last touch…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Last Kiss – sung by David Cassidy


	21. Twenty-One

“You don’t even have music,” Molly said. “How can you dance with no music?”

“We have music,” Judson smiled. “Our music. We don’t share.”

Brian sniggered.

“You guys are weird. And just so you know, I totally got that you were referring to the Crystal Water ads,” Molly said. “It's starting to rain. Is it okay if we come inside?”

“No,” Brian scoffed. “I always let folks drown in our beautiful Pittsburgh weather.”

Molly shrugged. “We thought we’d cope with the retractable awning, but it’s getting a bit chilly.”

“I told the damn architect we’d need a windbreak,” Brian sighed and went to the open kitchen door. “What are you guys waiting for, written invitations?”

Slowly, everybody filed inside.

 

Smiling, Shane watched Justin stop next to Brian. They exchanged a look and Justin drew a deep breath, then moved to the seats in front of the fireplace. He dropped into one of them and watched Judson light the fire.

“Can I put on some music, Brian,” Molly asked.

“Knock yourself out,” Brian said easily, sinking into the chair with Justin. Justin smiled a welcome, and put his arm around Brian, tenderly rubbing his nose against Brian’s cheek. 

Shane was surprised that Brian allowed the cute public display of affection.

Molly hummed to herself and went to investigate the CD collection. Leda joined her, and Shane wondered how that friendship had come about. Age didn’t seem to make a difference, and it was nice to see them together. Leda seemed quite protective of the girl.

Molly started the CD player, and Shane smiled. Good choice. Seventies’ disco music, just what the doctor ordered.

 

“I’ll take the bar,” Judson offered. “What do you want to drink?”

Ken and Dave took their martinis and sat in the chair next to Brian and Justin. Jennifer secured the chair on their other side, and Tucker brought the drinks over to her.

Judson grinned when Jim sat on the sofa with Ben, Daphne and Matt. Shane grabbed a chair and stayed at the bar, attentively watching the people in the living room.

Emmett and Calvin approached reluctantly, but as Shane smiled a welcome, they relaxed and settled at the bar with their cocktails.

“Mind if I join you,” Melanie asked. “Can I have a margarita? And do you have some juice for JR?”

“Sit,” Shane said in a friendly voice, pulling out a chair for her. “What happened to Lindsay?”

Mel snorted. “I took her upstairs. I don’t think we need worry about her until lunch-time tomorrow!”

Judson mixed something and poured it into a tall glass. Shane grinned. It was pink! Judson added some fruit, a straw and a parasol-pick. “Here you go, JR, a cocktail just for you.”

JR beamed. “Just for me? Thank you!” The little girl carefully carried her drink to the fireplace, where she sat down to watch the flickering flames.

“How are you guys getting on? Tell me if it’s none of my business,” Shane asked.

Shrugging, Mel replied, “It's none of your business. You’re asking because of Brian, right?”

Shane just nodded.

“I support Brian,” Mel said with a deep sigh. “And believe me, I never thought I’d say that!”

Judson smiled. “Good decision, Melanie.”

Mel looked at him and nodded. “Says the guy who’s leaving him.”

“Semantics,” Judson grinned. “I make it a habit not to stand in the way of tornadoes.”

Mel grinned back. “Good decision, Judson.”

“Will Brian be okay,” Emmett asked worriedly. “Poor baby. That was a lot to deal with today.”

Shane shrugged. “Let's make sure he doesn't have to do that again. I can't get over Michael and Debbie!”

“I used to think they were actually fond of Brian. I’m especially disappointed in Debbie, I always thought she was a reasonable woman,” Melanie said. “I can’t believe Ted was stupid enough to try and rip him off!”

Judson studied her for a moment. “You can still say that, after he stole 5,000 bucks from a child?”

“A child,” Melanie said. “And two supposedly gullible women!”

“Only one of you is gullible,” Shane said. “Clearly, you’re not.”

“Will he go to prison,” Judson asked.

Mel shrugged. “Depends. They already slapped his wrist once, for a different offense. Depending on who the judge is, and how hard Brian wants to push it – they might put him away for a bit. He needs a good attorney. Either way, he won’t find work as an accountant again, that’s for sure!”

Judson nodded. “Brian will see to that. He's a liability around money; Brian will make sure he can’t get tempted again. And what about Michael?”

“Huh,” Mel shook herself. “That creep! That’s a little more difficult. He’s a respectable home owner, a tax-paying shop proprietor… I don’t know. First, the robbery, and then he was selling stolen goods… Mail theft is bad, and what he did to Brian…” She shook her head. “Somehow, I feel that’s even worse than what Ted did. You should be able to do people for emotional damages.”

“I thought you could,” Shane said.

“Not enough,” Melanie said. “I can't even begin to imagine how Brian feels!”

“Finding out that the bastard robbed him and let him believe it was Justin’s fault – that’s the biggest blow,” Judson said.

“I think the biggest blow is that somebody he trusted blindsided him,” Shane sighed. “It's not the first time. Brian already has issues with trust. We’ll probably see the repercussions after a while. It always takes him time to work through stuff.”

“Is Justin going to help or hinder,” Melanie asked.

“Help,” Emmett said confidently.

Melanie turned to look over at the fireplace. 

Brian and Justin were talking to Jennifer, but Justin had his arm around Brian’s shoulders, and Brian was leaning against him.

“Why am I thinking ‘he ain’t heavy, he's my brother’,” Melanie muttered.

Judson smiled at her. “That's it exactly. They can take each other’s weight. The baggage they each come with.”

“Well, good luck to them,” Melanie said softly. “They’re bound to get it right eventually.”

“Daddy says can he please have a Black Leather. Justin says he should drink water, but daddy says he wants to drink, not drown,” Gus grinned. “Justin says will the barman please use his common sense. And he would like a glass of guava juice, please.”

Judson laughed heartily. “Brilliant, Gus. I wish I had your good memory!”

“That was easy,” Gus smiled. “They’re funny.”

Judson filled a glass with guava juice and handed it to Gus. “Don’t you want a drink? Can you take that to Justin?”

“Sure,” Gus nodded. “Can I have some orange juice please? And what about my daddy?”

Judson grinned, pouring juice over ice and handing the glass to the boy. “Tell him we’re out of Jack Daniels.”

They watched as Gus went to give Justin his glass and said something to Brian. Brian did a visible double-take, then smiled and replied.

Gus carefully put his glass on the table, then skipped back to them and grinned up at Judson. It was Brian's grin through and through, and Judson couldn’t help but respond in kind.

“Daddy says fuck you too, and he would like a beer.”

Judson and Shane burst into laughter, and Judson opened a beer. “Here you go, Gus, and tell your daddy that’s not my job anymore.”

Gus shook his head. “Honestly. I’m not a walking email, you know!”

Judson bit his lip and watched as the kid sauntered back to his father, giving him the beer and the message. Without turning, Brian lifted the bottle in a mock toast, then drank deeply.

 

Jennifer watched Brian swallow, and wondered whether Justin would try to stop him drinking more beer. Maybe Brian needed to get a little bit drunk to get over what Ted and Michael had done?

Molly stood next to Brian, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Briiian?”

Brian looked up at Molly with a genuine smile, then across at Jennifer with a smirk. “Did you program them to sound like that, or does it come naturally?”

Tucker laughed. “Guess what, Bri – occasionally, their mother sounds just like that!”

“Did I need that information?” Brian lifted an eyebrow and looked up at Molly again. “What, sweetheart?”

“Dance with me? Please?”

“Why me? Aren’t there any other guys around? Straight guys?”

Molly shrugged. “You’re the best dancer. And the most fun to be with.”

“Flattery will get you anywhere,” Brian smirked, but got up and took Molly to the parquet near the stereo. 

Jennifer smiled, watching Brian dance with her daughter. She was glad she had managed to find the money so that Molly could take dancing lessons. They had made a beautiful couple at the wedding, and for weeks after the event, Molly couldn’t find anything else to talk about. Brian said that, and Brian did this, and Brian thinks so too. Face it, Jennifer, she thought – you and your kids are smitten with Brian Kinney. 

She looked at Justin, who was watching Brian and Molly with an unreadable expression. When had he learned to keep his thoughts to himself? He had used to be the proverbial open book, all the emotions close to the surface and ready to bubble out.

Leda had pulled Matt up from the sofa, and now Daphne came to sit next to Justin.

“Let's dance,” Tucker said, holding out his hand. Smiling, Jennifer got to her feet. Ken and Dave also joined them on the impromptu dance floor.

 

“Are you pregnant too, or why are you drinking juice,” Daphne grinned.

Justin shrugged. “I need to keep an eye on Brian.”

Daphne nodded. “That was a change on the fly, wasn’t it?”

“A flying leap, more like,” Justin sighed.

Daphne tilted her head. “It’s what you wanted though, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Justin said honestly. “When I first got into the Burgh. But when I saw Brian with Judson… I really didn't think I stood a chance.”

“He was content with Judson. But I remember what he was like when you were together… Brian always seemed really effervescent, you know? Vivacious.”

“Showing off your verbal skills again? How come you ended up as a copywriter?”

“I didn't really know what I wanted to do with all the stuff I was studying,” Daphne shrugged. “Basically, all I wanted was to get away from my parents.” She hit Justin on the arm. “And you deserted me.”

“I didn’t desert you,” Justin protested.

“Did, too! We were supposed to get a place together, remember?”

“Oh, that. Sorry, Daph – you’re no competition for Brian.”

“Gee, thanks. I needed to hear that,” Daphne laughed. “Asshole!”

Justin grinned. It was great being with Daphne again. He had missed her. “So, why are you working for Brian?”

Daphne smiled. “I needed an internship, but couldn't decide where to go. Brian offered me a place, just to tide me over; and I got to look into every area of advertising – from accounting to traffic. I love the atmosphere at Kinnetik. Two of the account managers actually recommended me to Brian, and Brian gave me a job! I couldn’t believe it! I’m so lucky!”

“Working with Brian is hot, isn’t it?”

Daphne nodded emphatically. “Yes! Especially when you don’t get yourself fired!”

Justin smirked. “It was for a good cause.”

“Maybe. But it didn't do you any good.”

“I made a lot of decisions that seemed right at the time, and turned out to be shitty,” Justin admitted.

“Like leaving Brian, and never writing any of us again?” Daphne raised her eyebrows at him.

“I did write,” Justin said defensively. “But after I sold the computer it was more difficult. I hate sitting in an Internet cafe! You always have the feeling everybody is looking over your shoulder.”

Daphne shook her head. “You're just paranoid, Justin.”

“I’m paranoid alright,” Justin muttered. “Why isn’t Brian asking me to dance?”

“What, nobody said anything to you?”

“About what, Daphne?”

Daphne shrugged. “We had a summer party here last year. A couple of people Brian doesn’t see very often, like that cute country singer – Luke? Anyway, a few of the guys had a hissy fit because Brian hadn't danced with them as often as with Luke and Judson. That’s when Brian decided that if you want to dance with him, you have to cut in.”

Justin got up. “Now she tells me,” he rolled his eyes. “See you, Daph!”

Daphne laughed.

 

Justin took Brian away from Leda and smiled up at him. “So, who is Luke?”

“A country singer.”

Justin shook his head. “What is he to you?”

Brian smirked. “A former trick. Now, an acquaintance.”

“More than once?”

Brian raised his right eyebrow. “I don’t normally do repeats.”

Justin nodded. “What am I?”

“The proverbial bad penny?”

“Brian. Seriously.”

Brian pushed his tongue into his cheek. “Different.”

“And different is good?”

Brian drew him closer. “Excellent.”

Satisfied, Justin put his arms around Brian’s neck and gave in to his lead and the music.

 

Jennifer had seen Brian dance on several occasions, but never like this. 

Did he always bend his knees like that to dance with her boy? Just so he could be at eye level with him? And Justin’s smile! He had eyes only for Brian, and Jennifer just knew he had forgotten about the rest of the world.

Molly grinned at her and pressed a button on the CD player. The music changed, Brian straightened and pulled Justin closer still. Wow, the man could move.

And Justin! Considering he even had trouble with a simple fox-trot when he was dancing with her, this waltz was quite a sight.

Jennifer watched the couple and shook her head. ‘We are the Champions’, indeed.

 

“You can’t put a foot wrong when you’re dancing with Brian,” Judson grinned at her. “He won’t let you.”

Jennifer smiled. “Yes, I know. I felt like I had wings when we danced at the wedding!”

“Wasn’t I supposed to make you feel like that,” Tucker asked, feigning hurt.

“You do, always,” Jennifer laughed and hugged him. “Dance with Brian, and you’ll know what I mean.”

Tucker grinned. “No way. I’ll fall in love with him, and then where will we be!”

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “First, you’d have to get past my son.”

“Lose an arm, or a leg,” Judson said.

“I notice nobody is cutting in,” Shane said, joining them at the stereo.

“You want to try,” Judson asked.

“I’m too young to die,” Shane smirked.

“Do you think they remember we’re here,” Tucker wondered.

“They do, dimly. At least Brian does, or he’d be in Justin’s pants already,” Matt smiled. “Sorry, Jennifer.”

“No,” Judson shook his head. “You got that wrong, Matt. It’s not about sex, not right now. Right now it’s just about being back together.”

Melanie nodded. “Yeah. Look at the way they’re looking at each other. Like they can't believe it’s real. And I don’t think they’re aware of their surroundings. I guess they’ll wake up when the music stops.”

“It won't stop, trust Molly,” Jennifer noticed Gus watching Brian with a quizzical expression. “How will the boy take it?”

“In his stride,” Shane said. “Like everything else his daddy does.”

Mel nodded, sipping her margarita. “Brian can do no wrong. It’s the same with JR. They both adore Brian.”

“Isn’t JR going to miss Michael, and Debbie,” Emmett asked.

“I don't think so,” Melanie shook her head. “Brian is the one who comes to Toronto at least twice a month. He phones, regularly. Brian remembers birthdays and holidays, and sends little gifts in between, for both kids. He always makes them laugh. If anything, Michael sends something for JR, but forgets about Gus. JR isn’t even very fond of Michael, because she hasn’t seen much of him over the last months. And I think she was always a bit scared of Debbie and her loud voice.”

“You wouldn't have believed that two years ago, would you, Melanie,” Ben asked.

Melanie shrugged. “I guess not. I was always so jealous of Brian! What about you? Are you alright?”

Ben shrugged. “I’m glad it's over.”

“I know the feeling,” Mel said bitterly. “Say, was that the doorbell?”

“I’ll go check,” Judson said. “Maybe somebody locked themselves out.”


	22. Twenty-Two

Jennifer nodded at the new arrivals. “Good evening, Carrie, Richard! Spiffy hair-color, Hunter!” Then she noticed that Hunter was very pale, and he was shivering. He looked around nervously, clutching a thick wad of papers.

Shane hugged first Carrie, then Richard. “Hello parents! I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

Richard shrugged. “Expect the unexpected around Brian.”

“Nice to see you, Jennifer,” Carrie gave her a bright smile. “I take it the beautiful boy taking Brian’s breath away is your Justin?”

Jennifer smiled. “Yes, that’s Justin. But I’m not sure who’s taking whose breath away.”

“And he still has his scalp,” Richard smiled. “I admire your restraint, Judson.”

“Harm a hair on his head, and you have to deal with Brian,” Judson grinned. “I’d like to keep my own scalp for a bit longer, thank you!”

Richard nodded. “Unfortunately, we need Brian back on Earth. How do we accomplish that?”

Judson shrugged. “You wait until one of them needs a drink. Or until the music stops.”

“Just cut in,” Carrie suggested. “Go on, Shane.”

Shane shook his head. “Not me, mom, no way. You go ahead.”

Richard adjusted his glasses. “Brian is really not combustible, you know.”

“Can we please get on with it,” Hunter pleaded.

“Go sit down, boy. I’ll bring Brian to you,” Richard said kindly.

 

Startled, Justin tried to take a step back when a tall man with wire-rim glasses put his arms around Brian. It took a moment for Brian to let go.

“Mind if I cut in,” the stranger’s cordial voice was light and teasing.

Smiling, Brian turned into his arms. “Athair ! Let me guess, Vic phoned you.”

“That he did, mac . We had to give Hunter a ride,” the man nodded to the fireplace where Hunter huddled in a chair.

Brian looked at Hunter and shook his head. “Athair, meet Justin Taylor. Justin, the very honorable Judge Richard Shea.”

“Very pleased to meet you, Sir,” Justin said smoothly, holding out his hand.

Richard took it in a firm shake and grinned. “Don’t be so formal, son. Richard will do.”

“What’s with Hunter,” Brian asked in an undertone.

Richard shrugged. “I tried to find out, but you know these kids. Drama queens, both of them. I gave up before he could become completely hysterical.”

“It’s nice of you to bring him here for his fit. We sorely lack for entertainment around here,” Brian smirked. “Let’s go talk to him before he starts climbing the walls.”

He put an arm around Justin and drew him along. A tall, slender woman with dark hair and twinkling dark eyes stepped into their path. Justin wondered how old she was. If this was Shane’s mother, she had to be in her fifties, at least. She looked forty, at best. She wore brown slacks and a blue blouse, and she had the figure of a young girl.

“Carrie,” Brian said delightedly. “Hello beautiful!”

Carrie hugged him gently. “Brian. How are you?”

Her tone made it clear the question was not an idle one.

Brian shrugged. “Just dandy. You haven’t met Justin Taylor yet, have you. Justin, this is Richard’s wife, Carrie.”

“Good evening, Ma’am,” Justin said easily. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ma’am!” Carrie smiled at him. “You’ll find out it isn’t so nice if you don’t start calling me Carrie straight away! And once I start grilling you about everything you know about Brian!”

Justin smiled. “I can call you Carrie, that’s the easy part. As for grilling me about Brian – I’m afraid Brian scares me more than you do.”

“You know what’s good for you,” Brian grinned at him.

Carrie sighed. “Did you notice how easily Brian evades questions?”

Justin shrugged. “He did answer you.”

Carrie wrinkled her nose. “Without saying anything.”

“What do you expect? He’s an ad-man. He’s supposed to be able to do that.”

“Are you quite finished talking about me,” Brian said testily.

Carrie winked. “He hates that.”

Justin nodded sagely. “I know.”

Richard chortled. “Let's leave them to it, mac. They get along just fine.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Brian muttered, grabbing Justin’s wrist and proceeding to where Hunter sat, staring morosely into the fire.

Justin was tempted to pull his arm back, but he sensed Brian didn’t want to take him away from Carrie so much as to hold on to him.

“Hey,” Brian said softly. “What’s up, Hunter?”

Hunter looked up at Brian, and Justin wondered whether he had been crying. His lids were puffy and his mouth looked swollen. He tried to say something, but apparently, he couldn’t get a word out. A rolled up bunch of computer print-outs was on the chair next to his leg, and he was running one fingernail across the paper, creating an annoying little scratching sound.

“Want to go talk in the library,” Brian suggested.

Hunter looked at the door as though tempted, but then shook his head. “I can tell you here,” his voice sounded rough, and he cleared his throat.

Judson joined them, handing Hunter a glass of water.

Brian raised an eyebrow at him. “I rather think he could do with something stronger.”

Judson smiled. “Yeah, but then you'd find out that we’re not really out of Jack Daniels.”

“I knew we weren’t,” Brian shrugged. “Stop conspiring with Justin, will you.”

“Touchy, are we,” Judson said easily, winked at Justin and went back to get Hunter a whiskey.

“Hunter,” Brian prompted gently, sitting on the armrest next to the young man. “Tell me what’s eating you.”

Justin stood behind Brian and draped an arm across his shoulder. Brian leaned back against him a little.

Hunter took a sip of the water, then looked at the glass as if it contained poison. Very carefully, he sat the glass down.

He looked up at Brian. “You’ll be so pissed at me.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Brian said calmly. “Get it over with.”

Hunter sighed. “You won’t take it out on Vic, will you? I mean, I understand you’ll want to fire me, but really, you can’t blame Vic. It had nothing to do with him, and it's all my responsibility, anyway. Promise you won’t be pissed at Vic? It’s not his fault, I swear!”

Brian rolled his eyes. “I don’t believe in tribal liability, Hunter, you should know that by now. Would you mind getting to the point?”

Hunter sighed again. “I went into your computer at the loft. Just a hunch I had. I remember you’d said about those emails from… erm, you know? Not getting any, and no replies and all that?”

That sentence made no sense to Justin, and judging by Richard’s and Carrie’s expressions, it made no sense to them either. Judson narrowed his eyes though, as if in anger.

Brian frowned for a second, then raised an eyebrow. “Oh those. What about them?”

Hunter ran a nervous hand across his face, and Justin noticed he was sweating. “You were.”

“Was not,” Brian said. “Don’t you think I would’ve noticed? Apart from that one time.”

Hunter looked up at Brian, a pleading expression on his face. “Promise you won’t kill me.”

“I promise,” Brian said. “I’ll just kick you where it hurts. Make you suffer, like. So, I was getting them, but didn’t see them? What’s this, the mysterious case of the invisible emails?”

“More like, diverted,” Hunter offered.

“Diverted,” Brian exclaimed as though that was an explanation, eyes widening. “How?”

Hunter grabbed the papers lying next to him and put them on Brian’s leg. He pointed to a row of numbers. “That's the correct IP addresses, I mean, correct sender and receiver.”

He turned the sheet over. “Here, we have the correct sender’s address, and the correct email addy – but with an incorrect path.”

Justin felt Brian stiffen. “You're saying he diverted the mails I sent?”

Hunter sighed. “It's more than that. He hacked into your account and diverted all mails sent to that client to his own address. It's like intercepting your mail, you know?”

“He seems to have made a hobby of that,” Brian said coldly. “Go on, what else?”

“He hacked into the other account, and diverted all mails from that account to his own address.”

Brian nodded. “All mail? So nothing from that client went through to the correct receivers?”

“Nothing. Unless that client was using another computer to send from.”

“Cute,” Brian muttered. “Where do you come into this? How is it your fault?”

Hunter swallowed audibly and drained his whiskey. “He asked for my help.”

Justin held his breath. No way! Hunter couldn’t have done such a thing knowingly.

Brian took a deep breath. “Are you saying he actually told you what he was doing?”

“No!” Hunter shook his head vehemently. “Of course not! If I’d known, I would have informed you immediately. He claimed he kept losing emails he got at the shop, and that he needed some sort of back-up. So I walked him through the steps necessary to redirect his mail.”

“That would be like copying his own mail, right? How did he make sure neither party got copies of their email?”

Hunter sighed. “I told him how that’s done, because he said he didn’t want to spam Ben with his shit.”

“Wouldn’t you need administrator’s rights or at least a password to do all that,” Carrie asked.

“I have no idea how he did it,” Hunter admitted. “Michael just isn’t computer savvy enough to do it on his own. And I sure as hell didn’t give him any lessons in hacking!”

“Ted said you can purchase software to decode passwords,” Judson offered.

“Sure, you can. But that’s illegal,” Hunter said. “Maybe Ted helped him, he’s pretty good at crunching numbers.”

“Illegal doesn’t seem to worry him much. Either of them,” Brian commented. “I don't get why you think I’d be mad at you, Hunter.”

“You don’t get it? It's my fault that he was able to do that. It’s my fault you guys had a break-down in communications.” Hunter pushed both hands through his hair in frustration. “I fucking don't know what to say. Sorry just doesn’t seem to cut it.”

Brian put an arm around his shoulders. “Calm down, you little drama queen. You're not responsible for what people do with the information you give them. I’ve known the creep for some twenty years and didn’t see how Machiavellian he really is. I used to think he was so dumb he couldn’t pass a blood-test.”

Hunter ran a hand across his face again and leaned into Brian. “I was just so scared you’d never talk to me again.”

“You should be so lucky,” Brian smirked. “Why didn’t you just get on the phone and tell me all that?”

“I couldn't,” Hunter muttered. “I had to look you in the eye.”

“You’ve got guts,” Emmett said. “I have to give you that.”

“What did Vic say,” Brian asked.

Hunter shrugged. “That I’m a perfect dork.”

“Nobody’s perfect,” Brian snorted. “He’s a fine one to talk. It's not as if he cottoned on to Dopey!”

“No,” Hunter sighed. “But I actually helped Dopey with his schemes.”

“Unknowingly,” Brian said gently. “Don’t dwell on it.”

“That's easy for you to say. I mean, I actually helped isolate … you know who. And stopped you from…”

Brian shook his head. “You can’t change the past. Forget it. Call Vic. Better yet, let me call him.”

Brian pulled his cell from the back pocket of his black jeans and speed-dialed. The answer was so quick, it must’ve come after the first ring. “Vic, you asshole. Did you have the phone in your hand?”

“Thought so.” Brian rolled his eyes. “No, you fool, I’m not going to fire him. It's not his fault his step-father is a conniving little shit.” 

Brian spoke to Vic for a few moments longer, assuring him that yes, all was well and that yes, he’d keep Hunter at the mansion for the night. He finally hung up.

“I hear Blake is at your place.”

Hunter shrugged. “He just wanted to return the car, but he’s in such a state, we couldn't allow him to leave.”

Brian nodded. “I’m glad he's not alone tonight.”

“Here,” Hunter sighed and gave the stack of papers to Brian. “I printed out what I could find. They’re sorted by addressee and date.”

Brian weighed the pile in his hand for a moment. “That’s a lot of emails.”

Hunter nodded. “I already printed on both sides of the sheets. You can distribute them as they are.”

“What, like candy?” Brian shook his head. “I need talk to Justin first.”

Hunter looked at Ben. “I bet you hate me now, don't you? I had to tell the police, I had to! He kept doing nasty things, to everybody he knew. Tonight, I found out that he was dipping into my account, and into yours. It had to stop! And robbing Brian like that...”

Ben looked at Brian. “I told you, didn’t I.”

Brian took a deep breath. “It’s not as if I didn’t believe you. I thought he had trouble keeping his shop afloat. What does he need all that money for?”

“No idea,” Ben shook his head. “And not my problem, not anymore.”

Hunter was anxiously looking from Ben to Brian and back.

Ben met his eyes and sighed. “Hunter. I don't hate you. You’re my son and I love you, whatever you do. Anyway, you did the right thing. I'm behind you all the way.”

Hunter smiled, a watery little smile. “Thank god.”

Brian pulled him into a bear-hug. “Listen to me, you little idiot. Are you listening?”

“I'm listening, Brian,” Hunter said, “I always listen to you.”

Brian nodded his satisfaction. “You will never be alone again, Hunter. Never.”

Ben joined in the hug. “We might get annoyed occasionally, or even seriously pissed at you. But we won't desert you.”

Biting his lip, Hunter returned the hug, his eyes squeezed shut. “I rather like having a family now, you know.”

“Real families stick together,” Ben said. “Michael and Debbie never were real.”

Justin sighed to himself. So Michael had stolen from his own husband, and his son? What kind of person would do that? What had he done with the money, gone to more cons?

“If it's okay with you, I’ll go to bed, I’m bushed,” Hunter said. “I've had quite the evening.”

Their eyes met, and Justin realized with a start that this was the first time tonight Hunter had even acknowledged him. “You can beat up on me tomorrow, okay? I promise I won’t run away.”

Justin shrugged. “I have no idea what this is all about, but whatever it is, I don’t see how I can blame you if Brian doesn’t.”

Hunter shrugged and got to his feet. “Here’s hoping you won’t change your mind,” he sighed. “’night folks.”

Ben joined him. “Wait, son, I’ll tuck you in.” He put his arm around Hunter’s shoulders and they left together.

 

“It's time for you to go to bed, guys,” Mel said. “Say good-night.”

JR put her thumb in her mouth, clearly ready to sulk. Brian picked her up and winked at her, and she smiled. “Was that grass on his head,” she asked.

Brian grinned. “No. Remember Janice and her purple hair? It’s like that, just a hair-color.”

“Like mamma’s,” JR concluded.

“Gee, thanks. I really wanted people to know that,” Melanie laughed. “Bed, young lady. Now!”

JR tried to wink at Brian, but she only managed to squeeze both eyes shut. 

Brian grinned and kissed her, then set her down. “Good night, sweetheart. We’ll see you in the morning!”

He turned and looked at Gus. “What’re you waiting for?”

“I need to talk to you,” Gus said seriously.

“I think your daddy has done enough talking for one day,” Mel said. “You can talk to him in the morning, Gus.”

Gus pulled his lips into his mouth, looking amazingly like his father. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.”

“Gus,” Mel said, sounding weary. “Come on, be a good boy now. It’s really late.”

Brian shook his head. “Give us a minute, Mel. You don’t want him ghosting through the house all night.”

Mel shrugged. “Whatever. Send him up when you’re done.”

Brian bent and picked up Gus. “So son, what’s the problem?”

Gus frowned. “Can we go in the library, please, Daddy?”

“Excuse us,” Brian said and took Gus out of the room.

 

“I think I’ll go on up,” Daphne said. “My back is killing me.”

Matt got up instantly. “Come on then, love.”

“Wait a sec,” Calvin said. “We're coming with.”

Leda looked at Molly and inclined her head toward the stairs. Molly nodded and, saying good-night, they went upstairs.

“If we stay here, Brian will be up all night,” Shane said. “I’m off.”

Judson smiled. “You’re right.”

They left together, after Judson had given him a gentle hug. He was one hell of a guy, and Justin wondered whether they could actually become friends. Would Judson want to be friends?

How did he fit in with these new guys? Looking back, he could see that in the beginning, he had simply wormed his way into Brian's circle of friends. It had never even occurred to him to wonder whether Brian was okay with that. And now? Would Brian want him included in this family group? He had kept his two lives apart very carefully, and now they might merge because of his mere presence. How would Brian feel about that?

He liked Judson, and Jim was terrific, too. Shane scared him a little, and his parents – whew. 

Justin was uncomfortable. Everybody had seemed quite accepting of the changes in Brian's life, but without Brian, he felt like an outsider. What should he do, just presume and slip into Brian's bed – into the very sheets Brian had shared with Judson last night? 

Justin sighed softly. Why could life never be easy? Because you always manage to make a mess of things, that's why, he admitted silently.

Jennifer looked at him searchingly, then stepped closer and whispered, “You made your bed. I hope you sleep well in it.” Louder, she added, “Good night, everybody.”

Justin drew a breath between his teeth. Sometimes, he felt like slapping his mother. She could be so damn self-righteous!

Surprising him, Tucker pulled him into a hug. “It's that time of the month,” he whispered into his ear. “Don’t let her get to you.”

Justin grinned and hugged back. “Thanks. Sleep well!”

“That leaves us,” Carrie smiled. “Let's give them some space.”

Justin hadn’t even noticed that Jim, Ken and Dave had crept out already.

Richard seemed to hesitate. “I need to speak with Brian, but I guess it can wait.”

“It will wait,” Carrie said sternly. “Have you looked at the boy? Brian’s had enough for one day.”

Richard winked at him. “Are you going to let Brian get some sleep?”

Justin tilted his head. The question irritated him; but Brian seemed very close to the couple, especially Richard. So, maybe Richard had a right to ask him that. 

“I’ll make sure Brian gets what he needs,” he said finally, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“That tells you,” Carrie laughed at her husband. “Don't let him intimidate you, Justin. Richard is a pussycat, really. The claws only come out for our boy. He’s even more protective of Brian than I am!”

Justin sighed. “It’ll take me a while to figure out where I fit in, please bear with me.”

Carrie stood in front of him and put a gentle hand against his cheek. “Don’t you worry none, Sunshine. Fit in with Brian, and everything else will fall into place.”

“Thanks,” Justin smiled. It was odd to hear his nickname from somebody he’d only just met, but he found he liked it.

“Come on, Richard,” Carrie said briskly. “I won’t let you linger until Brian comes out of that room!”

Richard rolled his eyes. “You're so lucky, Justin. At least you won’t have to live with a bossy woman.”

Justin smirked. “I just get to live with a bossy man instead.”

They laughed, and the couple went upstairs. Justin wondered how many rooms there were, but remembered that even when Brian had shown him the house, they hadn't seen all of it. The fireplace and the dancing shadows it created had been just too enticing.

Justin looked around and collected the empty glasses. He carried them to the kitchen, then went to the bar and closed the open bottles and put them away, and took the rest of the glasses to the kitchen.

Still no sign of Gus and Brian. Justin loaded the dishwasher, then found a clean cloth and wiped the tables and other surfaces. He took two bottles of cold Evian into the bedroom, and made sure Brian’s gel pads were in the icebox.

Finally, he turned off the music and put the CDs back where they belonged. He was about to find himself something else to do when Brian carried a widely yawning Gus out of the library. 

A flicker of relief crossed Brian's face when he saw that the living area was deserted. “I’ll be right with you, just let me take Gus upstairs.”

Justin nodded. “I’ll wait.”

“Would you get the emails, they're in that drawer,” Brian fished for the keys with one hand while he held on to Gus with the other.

Justin took them and did as Brian asked, wondering why the crappy emails couldn't wait until morning. He locked the drawer again and went to sit in front of the fireplace. Brian would have to show him how to turn the thing off, he mused.

Lost in thought, he was dimly aware of soft voices upstairs, and quiet laughter.

 

Brian returned a few moments later. “I got out of reading bedtime-stories,” he grinned. “Richard is stuck with that job tonight!”

Justin returned the grin. “Isn’t it a little late for stories,” he asked.

Brian shrugged. “They're on holiday, and Gus and Richard are very fond of one another. Maybe we’re lucky and the kids will sleep a little later tomorrow!”

“It's a good job the house is so large. I was wondering whether you'd have to kick Carrie and Richard out into the night!”

“A few people have their own rooms here,” Brian explained. “Carrie and Richard, Hunter and Vic, and Shane and Leda. That way, they don’t have to cart all their stuff back and forth.”

“Doesn't Leda mind sharing with Molly?”

“She offered, actually, so the answer would be no. That pair get on like a house on fire. You should hear them laugh when they work together!”

“They work together? Where? How?”

Brian shook his head. “Justin. I realize you’ve been out of touch. Can we put off those questions? For now, let’s concentrate on the stuff Hunter brought. Do you want to stay here, or do we go to bed?”

Justin looked up at him, realizing he was out of his depth. There was no question he wanted to sleep with Brian. No question he wanted to sleep in Brian's bed. He just didn’t want to share the sheets with Judson. How to tell Brian?

“Are those particularly difficult questions,” Brian smiled at him, and Justin remembered he had said that to him before. 

When? Oh yes, when Brian had fallen out with Michael, and had asked him to come over for the first time. He’d been sitting in the diner with Daphne.

Justin got up and put his arms around Brian's waist. “I’m a bit ditzy,” he confessed, “Things have been moving so fast.”

Brian held him close for a long moment. “Too fast for you,” he asked quietly.

Justin tilted his head back to look into his eyes. “No. I’m just trying to catch up with myself.”

“Maybe you need to stop moving for a while,” Brian suggested. “Let's sit down.”

Clever, Justin thought. You’ve been trying to get him to rest all evening, and now you stop him from doing just that. He suddenly understood that the longer he waited, the more difficult it would be to actually get into that bed.

“No, let’s go to bed,” Justin said.

Brian shook his head. “Who are you, little Miss Contrary?”

Justin sighed, and Brian shrugged. “Grab those papers while I turn off the fire,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> athair – father (Irish/Gaelic)  
> mac– son (Irish/Gaelic)


	23. Twenty-Three

They walked into the bedroom together, and Justin put the emails on Brian's table.

“Wow, room service,” Brian said. “That’s new. Did you bring the water?”

Who else, Justin wanted to say, but he couldn't. “Yes,” he murmured.

Brian came up behind him and put his arm around him, in that wrestling hold of his. Justin loved it when he did that, it made him feel close to Brian and wonderfully safe and protected. He leaned back into Brian and turned his head to look at him.

Brian pressed warm lips to his temple for a moment. 

Mhh, nice. The achingly familiar scent of one Brian Kinney. Kirk’s Castile soap, Crew shampoo and conditioner, and that touch of Calvin. Plus that special scent that was Brian’s alone. Very nice. He had never felt that close to anybody, not even his parents. Certainly not his parents.

Brian tightened his hold slightly. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what,” Justin sighed.

“You're uncomfortable.”

Justin tried to turn, but Brian wouldn't let him. Justin sighed again; he knew Brian’s patience was that of a cat with a mouse – endless, but deadly.

“I’m not sure,” Justin finally murmured. “I seem to have a problem getting into that bed.”

“Those are clean sheets,” Brian said.

Yeah, trust Brian. He’d take care of such things in the middle of a crisis. 

Justin took a deep breath. He should’ve known. It wasn't just the sheets. It was the knowledge that the house was full of people who knew what they were up to, and among those people were his mother and sister. Judson! Add Shane and his parents.

He felt Brian draw a deep breath, then Brian let go. “Come on, Justin.”

They went into the wardrobe together, and Brian grabbed a carry-all. “What do you want to wear tomorrow? Put it in here, I’ll get you a toothbrush.”

Justin opened the bag and saw that it already contained blue jeans, a white tank-top and a white shirt, plus clean underwear. Did Brian want to take them to a hotel? Had he intended that all along? Why did he have that bag ready packed? Sighing, Justin quickly added his own jeans, briefs and a clean blue T-shirt.

Brian tossed the toothbrush on top and zipped the bag shut, after adding the emails. “Let's go, you drive. I’ve had too much to drink.”

Justin nodded readily and followed Brian out of the room.

“Leave the door open,” Brian instructed.

“What for,” Justin asked.

“It means that Elvis has left the building,” Brian grinned.

Justin knew he had heard the reference before, but couldn’t place it. 

Brian didn't elaborate.

 

They slipped into their jackets and got back into the Jeep for the third time that day, and Justin asked shyly where they were going.

Brian shrugged. “I wanted to show you next Monday, but we may as well go there tonight.”

“Why are we leaving?”

Brian looked across at him; Justin could see that from the corner of his eye. He kept his eyes on the road. Right now, he’d rather not look Brian in the eye.

“Because it's not just the bed you have a problem with, and by the time we have sorted things out, it’ll be time to get up. We have to be up early, anyway, because my lawyer will turn up at the mansion at nine.”

“You could ask him to come into town, instead,” Justin suggested.

“No,” Brian shook his head. “Tom’s doing me a favor; he has the week off. He lives in the area; I can't make him drive all the way into town.”

Justin nodded.

They drove in companionable silence, and Justin was about to drive to the loft when Brian started to direct him into an area he had never even seen before. From what he could see in the dark, this was one of the more classy areas of Pittsburgh.

Finally, Brian told him to park in front of a tall building. Brian grabbed the bag and took them to the door.

Justin was surprised when Brian took a code card out of his jacket pocket and entered a security code. The door slid open with a soft hum, and Brian entered the elevator. They went up to the top floor, and Justin was reminded of the noisy contraption on Fuller. This baby was almost silent.

“Parking lots are in the basement, but each apartment is only entitled to one space. I left a car here,” Brian explained.

They stepped out of the elevator, and Brian slipped the code card into its slot and added another code. The door swung open silently, and Brian stepped through and hit a light switch, slipping out of his jacket.

Justin blinked against the sudden brightness, then looked around. 

A small hallway, with a space for coats – sorely lacking at the loft! – a chair, a small table and a tall glass vase with the dried grasses Brian liked. One wall was covered with a big mirror, the other walls were painted a creamy white, and the open door-frame that led into the rest of the apartment was light wood. Pine, Justin wondered.

“Justin? Are you coming or going?”

Justin turned, to find Brian smiling down at him.

“Or are you coming and then going?”

Justin returned the smile. “I guess I’ll be coming and staying.”

“Good,” Brian inclined his head. “Close the door, and take off your shoes.”

Neither of them wore socks.

Justin did as he was told, suddenly feeling seventeen and inexperienced. Fuck, how did Brian do that? With just a look and a few well-turned phrases?

Brian had headed into the spacious living area already. Justin hung up his jacket and followed, but halted in his tracks. What was this place?

It definitely belonged to Brian, or at least, had been furnished by Brian. Glass, chrome, wood. The upholstery was deep wine red, the floor was polished pine, all complimented beautifully by a gorgeous Persian rug. The colors of the rug showed also in the thick closed curtains.

Gleaming chrome shelves were piled high with books and DVDs.

There was a small fireplace, and a huge wall-mounted liquid TV. Justin spotted a computer, a DVD player and a stereo. The stereo sat on a shelf that was filled with CDs. Justin took a quick look and found that most of them were Jazz.

Walking further into the room, Justin saw that the small kitchen was hidden behind a screen. Cautiously, Justin touched the shiny material.

“It’s silk, hand-painted,” Brian offered.

“Custom-painted,” Justin smiled. He recognized scenes from Mary Renault’s ‘The Persian Boy’. They had read the book together; it was one of Brian’s favorites.

The kitchen had a refrigerator, stove and microwave, a tiny work-space, plus, of course, Brian’s mixer and juicer. He couldn't seem to live without those, Justin thought.

“Come out of there,” Brian grinned. “You’re not some little hausfrau, are you?”

Justin stepped out of the kitchen, feeling shy again. Hesitantly, he followed Brian through the next door.

A large waterbed dominated the big room; it stood higher than the one in the loft. There were dark, shiny sheets, and the blue strip lights that had once been in the loft gave off a dim glow. The floor was also pine, it was warm, and Justin realized the place had floor heating. Cool!

Brian opened the wardrobe, revealing a handful of suits and a selection of shirts and ties, plus jeans, T-shirts and sweaters. He put their clothes away, and Justin grinned to himself. That was just so Brian. 

Brian tossed the toothbrush at him. “Bathroom through there,” he indicated the door with his chin.

Justin walked into what had to be the most magnificent bathroom he had ever seen. The ceiling was the same wood as in the other rooms. Walls, floor and vanity were black marble, sprinkled with golden glitter. Indirect light flooded the room as soon as he entered. Golden fittings, two sinks, and a walk-in shower with a seat, sliding glass doors, a Jacuzzi, a separate cubicle for the toilet, dark red fluffy towels and two large mirrors. 

A wet dream.

“Like it,” Brian asked softly from the door.

“Love it,” Justin breathed. “Wow.”

Brian nodded.

“This wasn’t the apartment you wanted to show me,” Justin asked.

Brian shrugged. “It’s yours. My stuff will be in your way, just pack it up and drop it off at Kinnetik. Cynthia will handle it. I’ll leave the car in the basement, you can drive that for now.”

Incredulous, Justin stared at him. “You're not serious. You want me to live here?”

“You said you liked it,” Brian shrugged again.

Justin drew a deep breath. How ridiculous that they were having this discussion in a bathroom!

“I love this place, it's exquisite,” Justin said warmly. “But it’s yours.”

Brian sighed and went back into the living room, settling on the sofa with a beer for each of them. The lights were bright, but their glow was cozy.

Justin noticed that the emails were sitting on the table. He was becoming paranoid about them. Why did Brian cart them around with him as though they were precious?

He thought for a moment, then decided to sit next to Brian, close, but not touching.

“Look, I had already decided yesterday that you should move in here,” Brian explained. “You need a place of your own. I’m not exactly easy to live with, and I realized with Judson that things are a lot simpler if you can get out of each other’s way.”

“How long have you had this apartment,” Justin wanted to know.

Brian shrugged. “A few years. It’s my hideout.”

“Your hideout,” Justin repeated. “What about the loft?”

“Everybody and their mother turns up at the loft. I wanted a place where I knew it couldn't happen,” Brian said quietly.

Justin shook his head. “Then you can’t give it to me.”

“I want you to have it,” Brian said firmly. “If I need a new place, I can find one.”

Justin studied first the room and then Brian's face. “How many people know about this apartment?”

Brian smiled at him. “So quick on the uptake. You do. Shane. Pierre. The help. Nobody else.”

“I’m not taking something else away from you,” Justin decided. “No way, Brian.”

“You’re not taking,” Brian clarified. “I’m giving it to you.”

Justin sighed and chewed on his thumbnail. Brian gently pulled his hand away from his mouth. Right, he hated people who chewed their nails. Justin normally tried not to let him see that he still did that.

“Look,” Brian said, “I have no idea what kind of hell-hole you’ve been living in in New York, but if the outside of the building was any indication, it was the same kind of dump you rented here in the Burgh. You’re not going back to that sort of thing. I told you before, I want you to take some time, not worry about money or any of that shit, and really figure out what you want to do for the rest of your life.”

“It was all I could afford,” Justin said weakly.

“Because you were too pig-headed to take money from me,” Brian shot back.

Justin shrugged. “We split up. I couldn’t.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “You could have, and you should have. Rather than live in a place without kitchen and bathroom!”

“There was a bathroom,” Justin said. “Across the hall.”

“Where the bugs were dancing La Cucaracha with the rats,” Brian scoffed. “Great place.”

“There were no parasites,” Justin said.

“Right. Is that why there were two cans of bug-spray next to your bed?”

“Fuck, you really do have your eyes everywhere. You were there only once. My mother never noticed, and she dropped by all the time.”

“Fuck your mother. This is between you and me, Justin. I’m not letting you live like that, do you understand? You can gripe and kick up a fuss, but I’m not taking no for an answer. Come Monday, you move in here. We share ‘Britin’, but this here is yours.”

“You know I can’t afford the rent, not for this kind of apartment,” Justin said. 

He wanted this place, but he didn't feel right about it. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

Brian shrugged. “I own the place. There is no rent.”

Justin rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to reply.

Brian put two fingers on his lips. “Answer one question. Are we back together, or aren’t we?”

Another one of those not particularly difficult questions which were so hard to answer.

“If you want me back, then yes, we are,” Justin finally said.

Brian pulled him closer and kissed him. “Did you doubt that?”

Actually, no, he hadn’t doubted it. Not even after what Brian had said on Friday night. Not really. Every instinct had told him it wasn't true.

Content, Justin snuggled closer into Brian’s embrace. They sat quietly for long moments, just enjoying the peace, and the comfort of knowing that nobody would knock on the door.

“You said you couldn’t take money from me when we split up,” Brian said finally. “Now that we’re back together, you can.”

Justin hit him on the arm. “You’re so full of shit. I walked into that one.”

Brian smiled. “In your face, dear-heart.”

“Don’t call me that, you know how I hate that!”

Brian smirked. “I’d forgotten.”

Justin took a deep breath and moved back into Brian’s arms. “I’m sorry.”

Brian threw his head back, but tightened his hold. “Not again, Justin. We've had that conversation, and you know I don’t do repeats.”

“Fine,” Justin murmured. “Can we go to bed now?”

Brian sighed. “Those emails.”

“Why can’t they wait?”

“Because they explain a lot of shit that happened while you were in New York,” Brian said.

“Like what?”

“You did listen to Hunter, right?”

Justin nodded. “Sure. So?”

“You are the person Michael isolated.”

It took a moment to sink in, but then, with a start, Justin understood what Brian had said. “Fuck. You mean he was reading all my mails? That creep! Nobody else was getting them? Small wonder Daphne was so pissed with me! And I was wondering why nobody ever answered my questions!”

Brian sighed and shrugged.

“What else,” Justin prompted.

Brian pushed his tongue into his cheek, retrieved the papers from the coffee-table and gave them to him. 

Justin looked at him quizzically, but rifled through the print-outs. Fifteen or sixteen emails from his mother, some fifty from Molly. Lots of emails from Daphne. But most of the emails were from Brian. Justin checked a few of the dates. Brian had written every second or third day, sometimes just a line or two. But he had written.

Taking a deep breath, Justin curled up against Brian. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Brian put his arms around him and held tight. “What for,” he murmured.

“Not giving up on me. I thought you had, you know.”

Brian swallowed audibly, but said nothing.

“My mother gave up first,” Justin muttered. “No surprise there. Then Molly. And Daph. But you didn’t. Why not?”

He felt Brian shrug. “I said in one of those emails that I’d keep writing until you told me to fuck off.”

“So, why didn’t dear Michael just write that email to you?”

“He wanted to know what I said to you,” Brian said wearily. “And the first email didn’t work.”

“The one about Nick,” Justin concluded. “You knew I hadn't written it.”

“I was hoping you hadn’t,” Brian admitted softly. “Even without you reading my letter, I didn’t believe you were callous enough to send me an email like that. Why didn’t you tell me on Friday that you never wrote that?”

Justin sighed. “Would you have believed me? I was wondering whether I maybe wrote it when I was drunk.”

“I would have believed you.” Brian snorted. “You don’t get drunk. Not like that.”

“You have no idea,” Justin said quietly. “I was drunk most of the time for the first three months. I was so fucking home-sick for you I couldn't stand it.”

“You idiot. Why didn’t you just come home?”

Justin snorted softly. “I had no money.”

Brian gave him a shake, none too gently. “You could have called. I would’ve fetched you.”

“Is that your life’s ambition? To come after me and drag me back home?”

He felt Brian shrug again. “If that’s what it takes.”

Justin turned and looked into Brian's eyes. 

The hazel was dark. Too dark. Brian was hurting.

He shifted so that he could put both arms around Brian. He held tight. “We’ve got to stop that.”

“Stop what,” Brian asked, leaning into his embrace.

“I’ve got to stop running, and you have to stop letting me go.”

Brian sighed. “It’s what you do. What do you expect me to do about it?”

“Chain me to the bed until I come to my senses,” Justin suggested, only half joking.

“Kinky,” Brian murmured. “I like it.”

“You can start right now,” Justin smiled.

“What, you feel like running away again? Already?”

Justin shook his head. “Running to you, not away from you.”

Brian got up and tugged him to his feet. “Let’s go to bed.”

Justin grinned. “Yes. Let’s!”


	24. Twenty-Four

Considering he had been so eager to finally get here, Justin found it odd that he hesitated uncomfortably on the threshold of the bedroom.

Weird, he almost felt like he had felt that first night years ago – inexperienced, yet eager. Scared, but determined. Vulnerable, even though now he knew he was in safe hands.

Justin took a shaky breath and looked to Brian for guidance.

Brian tilted his head, tossed a package of condoms on the single bedside table and slipped out of his sweater, which he dropped on the floor. The white wife-beater followed, and Justin licked his lips. He moved forward, wanting nothing more than to kiss the smooth flesh.

Brian stopped him with a look, and Justin stayed where he was, swallowing. 

Brian pushed his jeans down and stepped out of them. Black thongs, hot. Brian looked so desirable in black.

Brian pushed the thongs down his thighs and kicked them out of the way. His cock sprang to half-mast and swayed with every movement. Justin licked his lips in anticipation.

Brian sashayed closer, and Justin knew he was being stalked. He was Brian’s prey, completely at his mercy. The bedroom was the lair of this beautiful beast. 

Brian held his eyes, with that hypnotic gaze of his that made it impossible to look away. Breathing faster, Justin felt like a small animal, with a dancing cobra right in front of him. So dangerous. So enticing.

Justin dug his teeth into his lower lip, trying to control his response. His ass twitched, he broke out in a light sweat, and the damn jeans were definitely too tight for his demanding cock.

Now Brian invaded his personal space, and Justin fought for breath. Brian was so tall, and right now, he was all he could see. 

Every breath carried Brian's unique scent, with that faint touch of musk that told him Brian was aroused.

Close, but still not touching – and damn, Justin needed to be touched, he couldn't wait!

Brian came forward and laid his lips on his. The soft, almost intangible touch was electrifying, and Justin moved forward.

“So eager,” Brian murmured, gently teasing. “We have so much time. And I’ll take all the time I want. I’ll touch you, and then I’ll stop touching you. I’ll kiss you, and then I won’t. If you please me, I’ll touch you some more. If you’re very good, I might even give you a rim-job. And when I’ve had enough of touching and kissing and tasting, I’ll fuck you. I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll forget your name. Shit, I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll forget you were born!”

Justin closed his eyes for a moment, trying to fight for control and realizing at the same moment he had already lost that battle. Brian commanded his body, just like he always had.

Brian had once threatened to make him come just by talking to him. He had never fulfilled that threat, but Justin had no doubt at all that Brian could do it.

Brian ran his lips down his cheek to his jawbone, and Justin moved his head to give him better access.

Chuckling softly, Brian drew away. 

Justin sighed, disappointed. 

Brian bent and licked a nipple through the thin cotton of his shirt. Justin gasped, and then moaned when Brian’s lips closed around that nipple, pinching gently. Unhurried, Brian moved to the other nipple, moistening it and sucking on it. 

Justin whimpered, he wanted to get rid of the T-shirt, but knew that he would have to wait. Brian called the shots, and that was as it should be.

“Good boy,” Brian murmured, “you're such a good boy.” 

He tugged the T-shirt over his head, and Justin sighed with relief.

Brian's lips returned to his cheek, and this time Justin knew better than to move. He stood still and endured the delicate touch. He needed more, so much more than this – but he knew that Brian would give him everything he wanted, all he needed. All he had to do was wait.

Brian’s fingers tangled in his hair, then pulled his head back. Justin groaned as Brian assaulted his throat, sucking, nipping, licking, kissing. He sagged in Brian’s grasp, giving himself over to the sensations.

Brian smiled at him, that secret smile. 

Justin gazed into his eyes, waiting for Brian's next move.

“Somebody has learned to behave himself,” Brian whispered into his ear, the warm breath tickling and teasing. Justin bit his lip in reaction when Brian’s tongue flicked the shell.

Brian ran his lips all over his face, his forehead, his temples, his lids, and his cheeks. He kept avoiding his mouth, and Justin moaned in frustration.

Finally, ever so slowly, Brian opened the button on his jeans. Justin gasped.

Brian knelt and leisurely pulled the zipper open with his lips, tooth by tooth. Justin reached for something to steady himself, and realized that somehow, he had ended up back at the door. Gratefully, he leaned against the frame.

Brian held his eyes the entire time, and Justin watched the bright flames dance and leap in the hazel depths. He couldn’t look away, not if his life had depended on it. He had seen those eyes in his dreams, almost every night, until it got so that he couldn't wait to go to sleep, just to see those eyes and pretend that Brian was within reach.

At long last, Brian had opened the zipper enough so that he could push a hand into his trousers. Warm fingers closed on his cock, and Justin almost blacked out. It had been so long. Too long. Involuntarily, he thrust his hips forward.

Brian grinned up at him triumphantly. With one easy movement, he stripped Justin’s jeans and his briefs down his legs. Justin quickly kicked them out of the way.

Brian licked the underside of his shaft, and then surrounded the tip with his lips. His legs buckling, Justin grabbed Brian’s head for support.

Brian clasped the base of his cock and bent it to match the angle of his throat. Justin shuddered as Brian swallowed him whole, pushing his nose into his pubes. He watched as Brian closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Sucking hard, Brian pulled back, tight lips dragging the soft skin against the rigid interior of his shaft. Justin shuddered again.

“I really, really need to touch you. Right now,” Justin breathed. “Please. Or I’ll go crazy.”

Brian smiled, got up and pulled him to the bed.

They lay on the black expanse of the sheets, facing each other, the light movement of the waterbed like a cradle. 

The blue light on his skin made Brian look like an alien god, glistening and mysterious. Blue was definitely his color. Not the orange, and not the white, even though both were hot. 

Blue. 

It had to be blue for Brian.

“So touch,” Brian invited.

Shyly, cautiously, Justin reached out, running his fingertips first into Brian's hair, then down his temple. He followed the contour to the sensuous mouth, and ran his fingertip over Brian's lower lip. So soft, he marveled. 

Surprising him, Brian opened his mouth and sucked on his finger.

The sensation raced from his fingertip straight to his dick. Justin shifted awkwardly, and Brian smiled around the finger in his mouth.

Justin moved forward, pulling his hand away and covering Brian's lips with his own. Brian moaned softly, and opened his lips temptingly. 

Unable to resist, Justin plunged his tongue into the warm, welcoming cavern, tasting Brian and a faint hint of beer. Brian's flavor was addictive, and Justin could never get enough. He ran his tongue across the roof of Brian’s mouth and made him hiss. Exploring Brian’s gums made Brian gasp into his mouth, which encouraged him further. He had held back as long as he could, but now he really needed to sample Brian's tongue. He detected a weak taste of himself in Brian’s mouth, and suddenly, kissing was not enough.

Brian must have sensed the urgency, because he moved back and whispered, “Roll over.”

Eagerly, Justin did. He felt Brian shift and sit on his thighs, Brian's heavy cock nestled in his crack.

Brian ran warm hands up his spine, finally pressing on his shoulders. Justin followed the unspoken direction and pushed his shoulders into the mattress, his head to one side so he could breathe. He felt Brian lean over him.

Justin almost sobbed when Brian's tongue touched his neck. Warm, wet saliva cooling quickly on his skin. Ever so slowly, the tip of that tormenting tongue traveled down his spine. Tingling, hot, then cool. Justin arched his back into the minute contact, gasping. That tiny touch was his entire world.

Brian had reached the small of his back, and he licked and kissed and blew hot breath on his tailbone. Justin whimpered, begging for more.

Brian's ass slid further down his legs as Brian’s tongue continued its downward journey. Justin felt Brian's chin split his ass cheeks, closely followed by his tongue. Impatiently, Justin opened his legs to give Brian better access. He felt him laugh softly, then the warm mouth covered his hole, exhaling burning breath.

As if to an electric shock, Justin’s whole body reacted with a violent twitch and a prolonged shudder. 

Gently, Brian steadied him with his hands, murmuring quietly. “Hush. We’re getting there, let me set the pace. You just enjoy yourself.”

Right now, Justin felt that was about all he could do. Brian had already melted him into a heap of mush. Sighing, he submitted to the caresses of warm hands and tender lips.

Brian breathed on his hole again, then stabbed the tip of his tongue into him. Justin raised his hips, wanting more.

Brian laughed and slapped his ass sharply. “What did I just say about letting me set the pace?”

Justin gasped. Too much sensation, not enough sensation. 

Brian always did that to him. 

He overloaded his senses, so that Justin wanted him to stop. 

But it was never enough, so stopping was not an option.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

Brian laughed again. “Sorry is bullshit.”

Justin sighed and took a deep breath to steady himself. Consciously, he relaxed as much as he could, wordlessly telling Brian that he was ready for more.

Brian gave his hole a wide-tongued lick, making all his muscles quiver again. Then the probing tongue returned, easily conquering his tightening sphincter. The tongue flicked into him, then stabbed more sharply, in simulation of what Brian's cock would do.

Brian pressed down on his back with one hand, the other burrowed underneath him until he found his dick. 

Justin sighed blissfully when Brian began to fist him in time with the movements of his tongue. He rocked his pelvis to fuck Brian’s fist, his whole body dancing with Brian's thrusts.

“You’re so tight,” Brian murmured. “When was the last time you…?”

Justin exhaled. “With you.”

Brian kissed his back and rolled from the bed, vanishing into the bathroom. He returned moments later with some moisturizer.

Justin grinned. “Don't tell me you’re without lube.”

Brian shrugged. “I didn’t think we'd need it.”

“You never brought a trick here?”

“No. And you still talk too much.”

“Sorry,” Justin murmured and hid his smile in the pillow. 

Brian “the God of Sex” Kinney slept in a virgin bed, fancy that.

“I just know you’re grinning like the damn Cheshire cat,” Brian said, smacking his ass again.

Justin giggled, and Brian turned him around and kissed him. In earnest. Meaning business. Mhh, nice. 

Justin sighed appreciatively and pulled Brian into a hug. “Love you,” he whispered against Brian's mouth. 

Brian whispered something back, but Justin couldn't understand him. Probably Brian had just told him to shut up. If he got kissed like that, he’d never talk again, Justin decided.

Brian squeezed moisturizer into the palm of his left hand and then bathed the fingers of his right in it. Justin watched, his sphincter twitching again. He knew where those fingers were going to go, and he couldn’t wait. He spread his legs, but Brian shook his head. “Roll over, it’ll be easier for you.”

Justin exhaled in disappointment. He really wanted to watch Brian, but he knew that after all this time, he really should make it as easy on himself as he could. After all, he wasn’t seventeen anymore. He rolled back onto his stomach.

At first, he only felt the cool smoothness of the moisturizer, then the warmth of Brian's hand. The ultimate combination. 

Cautiously, Brian pressed a finger into him, and Justin realized that he really was tight. He couldn't even help Brian much by relaxing.

“Shh,” Brian murmured. “We’ve done this before.”

Yes, Justin thought. And this time, he’d make sure to remember every single second.

He felt Brian’s finger slide deeper into him, along the front of his rectum. Brian was moving very, very slowly, agonizingly so. Impulsively, Justin pushed back, in a vain attempt to fuck himself on Brian’s finger.

“Hey, slow down there,” Brian cautioned softly, one hand on his lower back, moving his finger back and forth. Finally, Brian pressed his fingertip against his prostate, first tapping it rhythmically, then pressing more insistently. 

Justin drew a sharp breath; it had been so long that the sensation was like new. He let out the breath in a hiss of pleasure, moving his hips to give his cock more room.

Brian pushed one hand underneath him, gently fisting him again, with just enough pressure to make him feel good, but not enough to make him come. 

Damn, the man played him like a master.

Brian took his time preparing him, and by the time he got the third finger in, Justin was becoming impatient again, tearing at the sheets.

“Tonight, Brian, not next year.”

Brian snorted and took his hand away from his dick. “You want to tell me what to do when? At this rate, you’re lucky to get any.”

Annoyed, and not quite certain whether it was with Brian or himself, Justin rubbed his cock against the sheets.

Swiftly, Brian pulled his fingers out. “Don’t be an ass, Justin. I’m not going to hurt you just because you can’t wait. If you need to get your rocks off first, say so.”

Justin squeezed his eyes shut. Great going, Taylor, he thought.

Brian put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him onto his back, kissing his mouth. “How long, Justin?”

“I told you, with you.”

Brian sighed. “I meant, since you had sex.”

Justin met his eyes, feeling timid and defiant and put upon, all at the same time.

Brian’s eyes widened incredulously. “You're shitting me.”

Justin shook his head.

Brian looked into his eyes for a moment longer, as if trying to read his soul. 

He kissed him again and reached for a condom. “You really can’t wait,” he whispered.

“Sorry,” Justin murmured again.

Brian rolled his eyes and smirked at him. “You can make it up to me.”

Justin smiled. “I will.” He made a grab for the condom and snatched it out of Brian's hand.

Brian raised an eyebrow at him. “Think again,” he warned.

Justin shook his head. “I know you won’t let me. Not what I mean. We’re both clean. I want to feel you. All of you.”

“I haven't exactly stopped tricking,” Brian said resignedly.

“Have you tricked since the test,” Justin insisted.

Brian hesitated, seemed to think, and then shook his head. “We still shouldn’t.”

“I want to,” Justin said. “Just this once. Please.”

Brian pulled his lips into his mouth and looked away for a long moment, his fingers playing with Justin’s cock. 

“You’re so fucking tempting me,” he admitted after a long while.

“Give in to temptation,” Justin said adamantly.

Brian pushed him back, both hands on the sides of his face, holding him still, studying his eyes. “Why?”

“I want to know I belong to you. I need to know.”

“I’m busted,” Brian murmured. “I’m so busted.”

Justin knew he had won, and couldn't contain the wide smile that threatened to crack his face.

Brian kissed him, his eager tongue plundering his mouth. Justin tilted his head back to give Brian better access. Brian promptly used the advantage, and for long moments, Justin felt nothing but Brian's sweet lips and masterful tongue.

Brian's warm hand closed on his cock again, a few swift strokes were enough to bring him back to the previous peak. He gestured for Justin to roll over again, but Justin shook his head. “I need to see you.” 

Brian was still hard, Justin noted. He squeezed some moisturizer into his hand and smoothed it on Brian's dick. He loved the feel of it, hot and heavy and silky-hard. 

Finally, Brian pushed his hand away. “Put your legs on my shoulders,” he said, positioning himself. 

Justin tensed involuntarily when he felt the tip of Brian’s cock at his anus, but then made a conscious effort to relax.

Brian leaned forward, gripping his thighs and lifting his butt off the bed. When he had the right angle, Brian thrust forward in a smooth motion, pushing into him.

Caught by surprise just like that first time, Justin felt his head snap back and his back arch. Gasping and clutching at the sheets, he strained to accommodate Brian’s thickness.

Justin reached for Brian's arms and pulled, wanting more. 

Brian plunged, and Justin felt him slide in deeper, felt the skin move against the rigid shaft. Skin on skin, he had never felt anything like that, had never felt more connected to Brian.

Their eyes met, and Justin saw the passion, the pure need in the warm hazel. 

He knew only he could fill that void, even if Brian never said it aloud. 

He saw it in his eyes, every time they made love.

Brian pushed again, and this time Justin felt him slip past the tight spot, felt the flared mushroom head push against his insides. He gripped his knees and tried to open up more; wanting, needing all of Brian deep inside himself.

Brian leaned forward and moved his hips sharply, finally driving himself home. Justin knew immediately that Brian was in full-length. He felt his insides adjust themselves slightly against Brian’s bulk. It hurt, just as it had all those years ago.

And, as he had all those years ago, Justin felt as though he had arrived at his destination, at long last.

Brian leaned forward again, and Justin lifted his head. They met in a hard kiss, both breathing hard, both covered in a thin film of sweat.

Brian, his heat warming him from the inside out, filling him, completing him. 

Nothing, nothing could ever compare to this.

Justin settled flat on his back, his hands next to his head, palms up, implying total submission.

Whatever Brian wanted, now.

Brian set a smooth rhythm, easily sliding in and out of him. Justin knew that he was preventing him from clamping down tightly, and finally started to match the rhythm by meeting Brian's thrusts. They both knew the moment when his muscles relaxed completely, opening him up for the long term.

Brian increased his speed, the thrusts harder now, rubbing his prostate with every move. Then Brian slowed down again, and Justin knew that he would make him wait.

And he did, altering speed and angle, depth and force. He took him close to the peak, and made him wait again. Sometimes he’d stop moving altogether. Justin felt like a runner, he could see the finish line, could almost taste it – but Brian wouldn’t let him get close enough to cross it.

Frustration almost overcoming pleasure, Justin began to toss helplessly. He couldn't take the drawn-out games anymore, he was out of practice.

Brian knew, of course. His thrusts became sharper, shorter, and Justin surrendered to his power, yielded to his dominance. He loved the control Brian had over him, a control no other man had ever even attempted to exert.

Brian’s cock expanded, forcing his intestines to adjust again. 

Brian fucked him like a machine now, merciless, mindlessly propelling them to the ultimate goal. Then he came, and for the first time, Justin experienced the full energy of the explosion, and the spirit of the tide. His muscles clenched tightly around Brian’s shaft as his own orgasm was wrenched from him.

Brian collapsed on top of him, and as always, Justin welcomed the warm weight. Exhausted, he moved languid arms around Brian's back to hold him close, his own cum splattered on his torso, gumming them together. He traced his lips across Brian’s open mouth, much too breathless to speak.

After long moments, Brian's cock softened inside him, and Justin felt almost sad when Brian moved out of him, rolling to his side. 

Brian reached out and pulled him close, embracing him tightly. 

They drifted on the verges of sleep, sated and contented.


	25. Twenty-Five

“I thought you were going to kill me,” Justin murmured after a long while.

“Kill you with kindness,” Brian sounded amused.

“You took your sweet time getting me there,” Justin said.

Brian got up on one elbow, looking down on him with his right eyebrow raised. “Complaining?”

Justin shook his head quickly. “No. I’m just saying – it felt so long.”

Brian smirked. “You were in a bit of a hurry, Sunshine.”

“It’s been a while,” Justin murmured self-consciously.

Brian put his head to one side, his eyes serious. Then he leaned forward, taking Justin’s head in both hands, preventing him from looking at the alarm-clock. “How long do you think?”

Justin thought for a moment. “It felt like twenty years. So I’d say – two hours?”

Brian kissed him, gently, then let go of him, jutting his chin at the clock.

Justin looked. “No way.”

“Way,” Brian said, sounding amused again. “I told you to let me set the pace, but no, you had to rush us like time was of the essence.”

Justin laughed. “I hadn't meant for it to turn into a quickie.”

“Mhh,” Brian said softly. “I guess I have to get you trained up again.”

“To take it like a man,” Justin grinned, nestling into Brian’s warmth.

“Of course, that’ll take work. Long, hard hours,” Brian smirked.

“Deep into the night,” Justin sighed happily. “And as always, it’ll be a pleasure to work under you. Sir.”

“Oh, the pleasure will be all mine,” Brian murmured, flicking his tongue into his ear. Justin gasped.

Brian kissed him, leisurely at first, then with more urgency. 

Justin felt his breath quicken. He couldn’t get enough, never enough of Brian. He pushed his hands into Brian’s hair, trying to hold him in place. Brian let him get away with it for a few moments, but then pulled away.

“Now I’ll show you what it’s like to work for me,” Brian said huskily. He tossed the pillows on the floor. “On your knees, boy.”

Justin hurried to comply. He loved it when Brian took that tone with him. 

He knelt in front of the bed, pushing his ass out, supporting himself on his bent arms. The waterbed gave a little; it was easier on his elbows than the bed in the loft. He was glad the bed was so high off the floor, he knew he would need its support.

Brian knelt next to him, pressing his middle finger into him.

Justin sighed. The moisturizer made for great lube, he wondered how expensive the stuff was.

As though he had read the thought, Brian whispered, “You now have a very well cared-for hole, Mr. Taylor.”

Justin suppressed his grin, feeling his sphincter twitch in response to the low timbre of Brian’s voice. “That’s so nice of you, Sir.”

“Want me to be nicer, Mr. Taylor?”

Justin gasped again as Brian pressed his finger in further, down to the second knuckle. He really was out of practice.

“That’s entirely up to you, Sir,” Justin murmured.

“Good answer, boy,” Brian whispered, changing the angle of his thrust, and hitting the sweet spot.

Justin fought for breath as Brian worked his finger deeper into him, twisting his palm, and curving his finger upward. That one finger felt so huge, and yet, he couldn’t wait for the real thing. He relaxed, and tried to push back.

“Don’t,” Brian warned. “My speed this time, not yours.”

Justin didn’t have enough air to reply. If Brian kept him waiting too long, he’d turn to jelly. He bent his head forward further, putting it on his crossed arms. He knew he could hold this position for ages, there wasn’t too much strain on his back or his arms, and the cushions were great on his knees. Fortunately, the material didn’t seem slippery, the cushions stayed in place nicely.

Brian was aware of all this, he was sure.

Just then, a second finger joined the first, and he felt his muscles tighten as if to expel the intruders. He took a deep breath, settling down again.

Brian scissored his fingers on the in-stroke, and in response, Justin tried to relax. When Brian pulled back, Justin tightened his muscles.

Brian stilled, and kissed the back of his neck, and his shoulder. “Don’t,” he murmured. “Too much effort after so long. Take it slow, lover-boy.”

Lover-boy? The first real endearment he remembered Brian ever using. He blinked the sudden tears away.

Gradually, Brian picked up the pace again, delving deeply into him. Justin felt those fingers all the way up to his throat, all his senses heightened, ready to explore and enjoy the old intimacy that seemed so new, so fresh.

Brian added a third finger, and Justin strained to accept the expansion. His muscles quivered, contracted, and then subsided. Brian was using more power now, there was more force behind his thrusts, and Justin felt the palm of his hand slap his ass with every stroke. It added another stimulus.

“Take another one,” Brian asked softly, spreading his fingers inside him. 

Justin nodded eagerly. Now he knew what Brian wanted. He couldn’t wait.

“I didn't hear you,” Brian teased.

“Yes,” Justin ground out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes. Please. Sir.” 

Brian liked to hear him ask for it, he remembered belatedly.

Brian inserted another finger, and Justin broke into a sweat. 

Pleasure and pain mingled, but he knew that in the long run, pleasure would win out. It always did, when he was with Brian.

There was hardly any resistance when Brian moved his hand, and he couldn't feel those muscles at all right now. He recognized the sensation. He was primed.

Brian shifted, moved his hand and rammed his cock home in one swift stroke. Justin arched his back and cried out, startled. He had known where this was headed, but he was never quite ready for Brian, who always caught him off-guard.

No condom, Justin realized happily. God, this felt so good. Made him feel so whole, so at home.

His hands supporting him against the bed, Brian fucked him with more power than he usually did; the way he treated the guys in the baths or the back-room of Babylon.

Justin tried to contract his muscles on the out-stroke, the way Brian had taught him to years ago. No co-operation there, he realized. Those muscles weren’t his to control. All he could do was take it.

“I … told … you … not … to,” Brian grunted, pulling out until Justin could only feel the very tip of his penis. He hovered for a moment, until Justin relaxed again, then drove back in.

Justin felt the plunge, had the feeling that the tip of Brian’s cock touched the roof of his mouth. It felt good, felt so good.

“Harder,” he groaned. “Fuck me harder.”

By now both of them were drenched in sweat, and Justin felt droplets from Brian’s wet hair hit his skin. More sensation, more stimuli. More. More.

Justin straightened, leaning back against Brian, remembering the position. Brian slipped his arms under his armpits, and brought his arms up, his closed fists against Justin’s shoulders. Brian’s strength took his weight, and Justin let go.

He loved this position, but Brian normally didn’t. He didn’t like his partners quite this passive.

Brian pulled him back, tighter against his chest. Between the power of his biceps, and those well-trained abdominal muscles, Justin knew he was defenseless. Now Brian could really do with him what he wanted.

“Take me. Fuck me. Hard.” Justin rested his head against Brian's shoulder, signaling his capitulation.

Promptly, he felt Brian flex his abs, jamming into him again. He knew that Brian could keep this going eternally, and that was exactly what he wanted, what he needed.

He gave himself over to Brian, letting him use his body the way he had to. The long, hard strokes seemed to last forever. Little by little, Justin became aware that his body responded to Brian. He was rock-hard, without Brian ever touching his cock. Only Brian could do that to him.

His mouth open, Justin struggled for breath. His muscles were beginning to protest the exertion, and he wondered vaguely how Brian kept going. Just then, Brian let go of him, and Justin dropped forward onto the bed, his muscles quivering too much to hold him.

Brian grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling his head back up sharply. 

Justin roared as the pain briefly dimmed the pleasure.

A strong arm yanked him back against Brian’s chest, and for a moment, the blood rushing in his ears obscured all sound. Then he heard it.

“Mine again,” Brian growled. “Mine, and don’t you forget it.”

“Yes, yours,” Justin conceded readily, eagerly. “All yours.”

Brian sped up his movements, and Justin recognized the short, fast strokes that would take them to the culmination in no time.

He felt Brian’s cock swell inside him, and then he shot his load. Not enough, never enough. More, more. More heat, more tightness, more closeness. The wet heat of Brian's cum inside him, filling him as his muscles milked the rigid shaft.

Panting, Brian let him go, and Justin sagged forward, trying to catch his breath and regain his senses. Brian slipped away from him, and Justin clenched his ass automatically, not wanting to release him.

He felt Brian's lips on his back, his tongue licking up a few drops of sweat. 

“Calm down,” Brian murmured. “That was a rough ride.”

Barely conscious, still breathless, Justin allowed Brian to lift him up on the bed. He protested with a moan when he sensed that Brian was moving away from him.

“Hush,” Brian whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

Justin drifted on the euphoria of a heavy fuck. All was finally right again with his world, after months and months of insecurity, homesickness and confusion. 

Mine, Brian had said. He never said anything he didn't mean.

Brian returned with a damp washcloth and a bottle of cold water. Justin stretched lazily as Brian cleaned him, making Brian laugh.

“You're just a big pussycat, aren’t you,” he teased.

“No pussy,” Justin declared drowsily. “Tomcat.”

Brian laughed. “Right. That's it.” He leaned over him and kissed him deeply. “My little tomcat.”

Justin sighed and stretched again. “Whatever you say, sir.”

“Now there’s a good boy,” Brian said approvingly. “Come on, sit up. Have a drink.”

Justin shook his head. “Too tired. Sleep.”

“So much for whatever I say,” Brian grumbled. He took a deep gulp from the bottle, then leaned over Justin again and gave him the water from his mouth.

Justin moaned. 

Whatever Brian transferred from his mouth to him, it turned him on. Whether it was ice-cream, or a cigarette, or water. Feeding from Brian’s mouth was the ultimate thrill.

“I thought you were tired,” Brian smiled. “We have all night. Get some sleep.” 

Brian fed him some more water, but Justin was really out of it now. 

His eyes seemed to drift shut of their own accord, and the last thing he felt was Brian settling down next to him, and pulling the cover up to his shoulders, tucking him in.

“Baile ,” Brian murmured, pressing his lips to his temple, his embrace tightening.

Justin curled into him, asleep in seconds.

 

Brian was in orbit, looking down on Earth, surrounded by the moon, the planets and distant stars.

Justin.

Back.

Back with him, back in his bed.

Justin. Home.

The one person in the world who made him feel whole, made him feel like he belonged. Justin made him feel that he was actually part of the human race, and not just some outsider looking in.

Justin made him care. Made him care about himself.

Brian smiled.

You’re a lucky bastard, Brian Kinney.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> baile - home (Irish/Gaelic)


	26. Twenty-Six

Justin woke, momentarily disoriented, blue lights in his eyes, the sound of deep, regular breathing in his ears. Familiar, yet unfamiliar. It took him a while to understand that he wasn't in the loft, but he was with Brian. Back home. Finally.

He stretched lazily, then realized why he had woken up. Sighing, he made his way into the bathroom. Using the toilet quickly, he looked longingly at the shower. He could tell the muscles in his torso and legs hadn’t enjoyed tonight’s activities quite as much as the rest of him had. 

Quietly, he padded to the door and peeked into the bedroom. Brian hadn’t stirred. He pushed the door shut again and slipped into the shower. Ah, it was wet. So Brian had had a shower already, and he hadn’t even heard him. 

Just as well, because he would have been tempted to join Brian, and he wasn’t sure he could get it up even now.

The hard hot jets massaged all the strain away, and Justin thought that Brian had probably felt the strain in some other muscles. He grinned.

Justin toweled himself dry, taking pleasure in the heavy texture of the expensive towels. Brian always bought the best, and he had learned to appreciate that sort of thing. He appreciated it even more now, because he had gone without for so long.

Frowning, Justin stared into the mirror. 

What Jim had said – that he had fallen for Brian and the glamor… had he come back to the money, or to Brian?

New York hadn’t been easy, he admitted. Actually, it had been hellishly difficult. But the comforts of Brian's home had never been on his mind when he thought about Brian. 

And he had thought about Brian almost continuously, he realized slowly. It had always been about Brian’s eyes. His hair. Those hands. That confident hold. The grace of his movements, the sharpness of his remarks. That voice. Warm. Teasing, so often teasing. Tender, in bed. Passionate. Loud, hard and demanding on the rare occasions when Brian was angry. The delight of his lithe body. The singular splendor of the man.

No. Justin shook his head. If Brian had been on the poverty-line, he would still have come back to him. It was Brian he wanted, not his wealth. He had never wanted his money. He had always wanted Brian.

Smiling, Justin crept back into the bedroom. Two hours later, Brian would definitely be up for another round.

Typical. Brian was on his back, spread out in the middle of the bed, owning his space. 

Feeling his smile widen, Justin bent over his slumbering lover. The blue lights above the bed cast an eerie glow, and Brian's skin seemed to reflect that glow. Thick, long lashes resting on his cheeks, the lush lips parted in a slight smile: Brian was dazzling. 

Justin took a long time appreciating his very own Sleeping Beauty, so much more stunning than any fairy tale creature could ever be. Grinning to himself, Justin thought that he’d better never voice that idea. Brian would wring his neck.

He started to kiss Brian tenderly. First his forehead, his temples. His nose. Ever since Brian had told him that he liked to smell him, he had had a thing about Brian’s nose. He pressed his lips to Brian’s cheek. Brian smelled of soap, clean and spicy. And underneath, there was Brian, Brian's unique fragrance. Mhh, he should try to bottle it, so that he could take Brian with him, wherever he went. He tried to imagine Brian’s face if he told him that, and grinned. Another idea he’d better keep to himself.

Lovingly, Justin flicked his tongue across Brian’s lips, tasting toothpaste. He had forgotten to brush. Briefly, he considered another trip to the bathroom, but dismissed the idea.

Right now, he wanted to kiss Brian. Kiss, kiss, kiss, and do nothing else.

Brian exhaled, obviously drifting to wakefulness. 

Justin smiled, he loved to watch Brian wake up. Not at all the epitome of energy he normally was. He was so cute in those first, unguarded moments. A bit sleepy still, and tranquil. He was totally in love with Brian when he was like that.

Justin pressed his lips to Brian’s throat. Oh, he loved that strong throat. Loved to feel the pulse under the skin, quickening already. He slid his damp lips down to the hollow of Brian’s throat, licking the tender skin there.

Brian took a deep breath, and Justin looked up in time to see Brian open his eyes, gazing at the strip lights.

Yeah, he remembered that. Wherever Brian slept, at least one light had to be kept burning. Brian couldn’t stand waking up in the dark, he always needed to know where he was straight away.

Brian sighed, a contented sound, stretched dreamily and closed his eyes again.

Cute. Justin grinned. Didn't even look at me, he thought. Well, he’d make him look.

Justin flicked his tongue over the nearest nipple, causing Brian's breath to hitch. Just to hear that sound again, he repeated the action. Brian took another breath, but he kept his eyes closed.

Fine with me, Justin decided. He sucked both nipples until they were hard and erect, then kissed and licked every inch of Brian's chest, and finally started on his right arm. He kissed the fingertips, then the palm. Brian tried to curl his fingers, but Justin sucked the tips of his fingers into his mouth, and Brian exhaled and stopped moving. Slowly, Justin made his way to the wrist, where he could feel the steady pulse under his lips. He kissed up the soft skin, slowly getting to the tender inside of the elbow. He darted his tongue into the small depression, and followed that up with an open-mouthed kiss.

Brian breathed deeply, and Justin kissed up his biceps, using his teeth once or twice for a sharp nip. He felt the muscles shift under the skin, and licked the spot he had bitten to soothe it. Reaching the shoulder, Justin finally pushed his nose into the armpit, inhaling appreciatively. Brian's own scent was strong, a dead turn-on. 

Brian made a soft sound, and now that his eyes had fully adjusted to the blue light, Justin could see that Brian was getting goose-bumps. Nice. He could take it from there.

Justin moved down the bed, stealing the duvet. Brian made a half-hearted grab for it, but then just shifted slightly to one side, settling down again.

Justin gently pushed at his legs, encouraging Brian to spread them, pleased when Brian complied. He slipped off the bed and knelt at the bottom, licked his lips and ran them over Brian’s feet. Brian had beautiful feet, slender, with long toes. They were as well cared-for as his hands were, with perfect skin.

Justin exhaled, and flicked his tongue over Brian's instep.

Brian hissed, arched up and tried to pull his foot away, but Justin had anticipated that and held on to his ankle. Smiling to himself, he pressed his lips more firmly to Brian’s instep, making sure Brian felt the teeth behind the softness.

Another attempt at pulling away, but Justin held tight. He licked his lips and kissed the instep again, flicking his tongue against the skin once more.

There it was: that odd little whimper from Brian that he had been waiting for. At the same moment, Justin felt him relax. Good to know this little trick still worked.

Slowly, he kissed his way up Brian's leg, much the same way he had kissed his arm before. Brian sighed, opening his legs further. Justin got to the knee, and gave a slight shove so that he could reach the hollow. Cautiously, he ghosted warm breath over the silky skin, then stabbed his tongue into the hollow.

Brian moaned, rolled fully onto his back and spread his legs wider. 

Justin smiled at the hedonistic picture. 

So inviting. 

Gently, he kissed up the inner thighs, enjoying the feel of smooth skin under his lips. And then kissing wasn’t enough. He wanted to leave a mark, this was his territory now.

Justin gave in to the sudden wildfire feeling, his gentle kisses turning into strong sucking, nipping and more sucking, leaving dark marks all the way up Brian's legs.

Brian whimpered, clenching the sheets and arching his back, but made no move to defend himself.

One last strong suction at the groin, making Brian howl in protest.

Mhh, nice. The perfect place, Brian would think of him every time he moved his legs in the next few days. Justin smiled and moved up a bit.

Discovering the glitter of precum pooling on Brian's belly, he closed his mouth over the spot and sucked strongly. 

Brian writhed and exhaled sharply.

Delicately, he tongued the soft spot where Brian's cock vanished into the velvety covering of the ballbag. Justin pressed his tongue against the urethra and moved up, milking it for a steady flow of precum.

Brian arched his back again and threw his head back, sucking his cheeks in.

Taking pity, Justin closed tender lips around Brian's erect cock, just pulling the mushroom head into his mouth. Tasting more precum, he pushed his tongue into the slit. 

Brian bucked, and Justin tried not to chuckle. Who was eager now?

He ran his hands up Brian's leg, softly, aware of the damage he had done there. Brian sighed and spread his legs wider again, allowing Justin better access.

Judging the moment to a nicety, Justin finally relaxed his throat and swallowed all of Brian. He was prepared for the involuntarily jerk, and suppressed his gag reflex. 

At least I haven’t forgotten everything, he thought with grim satisfaction.

Justin took his time moving up and down the rigid column, using his saliva for lubricant. He remembered things Brian had taught him, things Brian liked. Such as lodging the head in your throat, and then moving from side to side so that your cheeks slide against the rigid cock. Swallowing, strongly. Hooking your tongue under the ridge of the mushroom head, and sliding it along there. Ah yes, that was it – there was that soft moan that indicated Brian was close.

Time to pull back a little, fondle the balls and push a fingertip against the hole. Just push, don’t enter. Tease, tease, and tease. Then tease some more. Take the base of that beautiful cock in your hand, make sure that your palm pushes his balls against the perineum. Let him feel you expect to milk him dry.

Take the head of Brian’s cock back into your mouth, apply suction. Mhh, yes. The head swells. Push your tongue under the ridge again, taste the musk and explore the soft skin. Velvet tongue against velvet skin. Taste and smell change, become stronger. Tighten your lips, and bob, so that the thin skin gets pulled against the firm interior. 

And now… check how far gone he is.

Justin looked up to find Brian drawn like a bow, covered in a thin film of sweat that shone like ice in the blue lights. With open mouth, Brian drew deep, rapid breaths, and exhaled on soft sighs.

Brian was dangling over the void, and now it was time to let him drop.

Justin closed his mouth on the warm, wet shaft again, and stabbed his tongue into the slit demandingly. 

Brian bucked sharply, and Justin knew it was time. He swirled his tongue over the head, at first slowly, then increasing his speed.

Justin felt the spasms first, he always did. The tell-tale waves of muscle contractions, wrenching the orgasm out of the slender body under his hands. He felt the fluid spurt up the urethra, and then hot splashes of cum filled his mouth. Justin swallowed, lips tight, he didn’t want to lose a drop. Sucking more gently, he extracted the last droplets. He loved the taste. Essence of Brian.

His eyes squeezed shut, Brian was quivering, as though yielding to electric shock after electric shock. Unaware of his surroundings, he was still falling from that cliff, a peak that Justin had managed to put him on. 

Justin smiled his satisfaction. He had cum just from the feel of Brian in his mouth, and the feel of his skin under his fingertips.

 

Justin moved up the bed, even though he was on the wrong side. Well, Brian had hogged most of the space, and there was no room for him elsewhere.

Brian rolled away from him, facing the left side of the bed. Curled into himself, he was quiet for a long time. 

Too quiet, Justin thought. Too long. What had he done wrong?

Brian’s breathing was labored, hard short gasps rather than the long deep breaths of aftermath.

Still drowsy from his own orgasm, Justin watched without comprehension as Brian reached for a Kleenex. 

Brian blew his nose, and Justin finally understood that Brian was crying.

Crying, in that silent, soul-bleeding way of his.

Crying, like the night after his father’s funeral. Crying, like after the bomb at Babylon.

Confused, he touched a cool shoulder. “Brian?”

No reaction.

Fear overcame confusion, and Justin put some muscle into the pull, managing to bring Brian onto his back.

“Brian,” he whispered, leaning over him.

Brian slowly opened his eyes, the thick lashes matted with tears, the sweet mouth swollen. He had never looked better, had never looked so beautiful to Justin.

Their eyes met, and Brian’s expression was so bewildered that at any other time, Justin would have laughed. Not here, not now.

“Brian,” Justin whispered again.

Blinking rapidly, Brian reached up and cupped his cheek, his thumb rubbing against his lips.

“Justin?” Brian sounded as perplexed as Justin felt.

Justin hovered, wondering how to react without spooking Brian. Fuck, had he taken something? When? What?

Settle for reality, Justin thought, remembering that first night. “It’s Monday. July 2nd, and we’re at your hideout. Remember?”

The relief flooding Brian's face was unmistakable. 

Justin sighed, and tenderly tried to draw Brian close.

Surprising him, Brian flung himself at him full force, his face pressed into his side. He clung to him with both arms, his breath coming in short gasps. Brian was shaking so violently, the whole waterbed rocked with those waves.

Brian held on to him tightly, and Justin felt they were one being, his body the only bulwark against Brian's pain.

Brian was so close that Justin could feel his lashes flutter against his skin, like captured butterflies. Brian was crying again, a tide of hot tears, torn from his very soul.

Brian whispered something, repeating it over and over, and after a moment, Justin made out the words. “No dream. You’re here. You're real.”

Horrified, Justin stared down into the abyss of agony he had thrown Brian into.

“It's only time,” he remembered Brian saying.

Time. Eons of anguish. An eternity of hopeless longing. An infinity of aching need. A year of yearning.

It’s only time.

Justin bit his lip, holding Brian close, murmuring to him, trying to calm him. He was only too aware that he could only wall the pain back up, but never take it away again.

 

Arrogant bastard, Justin thought. 

You were so glad when Brian finally acknowledged that you had a relationship. Were so happy when he said those three little words.

You made him feel. You love him, always have and always will. But that wasn’t good enough. What he gave you wasn’t good enough. You had to make sure he felt what you do.

Brian had been so careful. Had not allowed himself to love, to fall in love. Every instinct had told Brian that if he fell, he’d fall harder and deeper than anybody else ever could or would.

Then you came along, so certain that you were right and that you had the right, so sure that what was good for you had to be good for him.

And he fell for you. You made sure of that. Tested it, again and again. Ran to him, then ran from him. Came back, to find him still there, waiting for you. Again, and again.

Brian, heedless. Brian, not caring about his image, or what other people thought. Proud Brian, a fool for your love.

When you had him where you had wanted him for five long years, you decided that you weren’t good enough for him, after all. But that wasn’t your decision to make.

You fucking dropped him.

Bastard. Arrogant fucking bastard.

 

Gradually, Justin became aware that Brian had slipped away into sleep. He shifted, gazing into Brian's face, now lined with anguish and exhaustion. 

The blue lights now less than flattering, Justin remembered the Greek statue of Laocoon. That face… unrelenting sorrow coerced from unrelenting stone.

No peaceful slumber, no sweet dreams. Still frowning, Brian slept because his body and mind didn't give him a choice.

Justin managed to pull the duvet up around them both and cradled Brian protectively, aware he didn’t know how to protect Brian from himself.

 

You’re stuck, Justin thought. For good. Don’t you dare leave him again. 

Make sure he knows that love is not just a word. Let him feel that it's true. Let him be certain.

No more games, no more gambles. No more tests.

What he feels is as real as the moon and the stars. Stop making demands. Forget yourself. Think about him. Find out about him. His needs, his desires. His dreams, his wishes.

You wanted him all to yourself. Time to become all his.

Time to learn how to be a partner, rather than a brat.

Time. Time to grow up. Time to become a man Brian can be proud of.

Time to stop wasting time.

 

Justin was tired, but he couldn't sleep. The sweet burden in his arms was his to keep, his to watch over.

Brian stirred, drew a deep breath and opened his eyes.

“Hey,” Justin murmured. “Love you.”

“Likewise,” Brian said, sighing. He swallowed and rubbed his head against Justin's shoulder.

Now who’s the cat, Justin thought. 

“Want some water,” he offered.

Brian looked at him, frowning slightly. “What’re you doing on that side of the bed?”

Keep it simple, Justin warned himself. “I went to the bathroom, and when I came back it was either this side, or the sofa.”

“Oh,” Brian murmured, looking as though he were trying to remember something.

Justin hoped he had forgotten his earlier outburst. He had no idea how to deal with Brian on emotional overload.

Brian stretched and reached for the water-bottle, offering it to Justin first.

Justin shook his head, and watched Brian take a deep drink.

Brian capped the bottle and put it back, then turned back, lying on his side. He regarded Justin with a somber, questioning expression, and Justin wondered what he was thinking.

“What are you doing awake,” Brian asked cautiously.

Justin shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. Too much on my mind.”

“Such as?”

Justin shrugged again. “Us.”

“Come here,” Brian sighed and reached out, tugging him into an embrace. “Tell me.”

“You don’t like talking,” Justin murmured.

“Words seem to obscure more often than they clarify,” Brian replied. “If you need to talk, we’ll talk. But let’s be honest with each other. Don't lie to me because you think you have to protect my feelings, or some such shit.”

Justin smiled, and rubbed his cheek against Brian’s shoulder. “I know you’re always honest. And I’ll have to learn.”

Brian tightened his hold, and Justin felt his lips in his hair. “So, tell me.”

“Can I ask you something? I’m not digging, or anything. It’s something I’ve thought about for the last year. And I don't understand.”

“Well, ask.”

“Why can’t you tell me you love me? You told Judson, I heard it. You tell the kids. You used to tell Michael, and you probably tell Shane. But you said it to me only twice.”

“Those words are said too much,” Brian drew a deep breath. “After the bomb, I had to tell you. I didn’t want you to wonder about it forever. I had to say it in a way you could understand.”

Justin nodded. “But just now, you said likewise. Why is it so difficult?”

“It’s not difficult,” Brian said softly. “It’s a lie.”

Justin froze.

Brian gave him a little shake. “Don’t get me wrong, Justin. I can tell others I love them, because it's a manageable feeling. The kids have a right to hear it in words that make sense to them, even though what I feel for them is way stronger than what I feel for Judson, or even Shane. Telling you I love you…” 

Brian shrugged. “That’s just the surface. And I don’t like telling you, because everybody says it so easily. I know your mother tells you she loves you. Debbie did. Those are just words, some sort of social nicety.”

Justin had snuggled closer to Brian’s warmth. “I do love you, Brian. Does that mean I can't tell you anymore?”

Brian was quiet for a long moment. “Why do you need to tell me?”

Surprised, Justin shifted so he could look into Brian's eyes. “I’m so full of what I’m feeling, I just have to let it out. I have to tell you. Don’t you feel like that?”

Brian bit his lower lip, frowning in concentration.

He's not used to discussing his feelings, much less his reactions, Justin thought. And recalled that whenever he had heard Brian say the words, he had been prompted.

“Never mind,” Justin smiled. “You don’t have to tell me. I know. I used to think I needed to hear it, but I don’t. Not anymore.”

“Words aren’t enough,” Brian sighed.

“We need our own language,” Justin decided. He smiled again. “When I want to tell you I love you, I’ll say space.”

“Space,” Brian grinned. “Empty space?”

“No,” Justin gently boxed his ribs. “Space, outer space. Beautiful, full of stars. Endless. Can I call you darling?”

“Sure. If I can clout you one.” Brian grimaced. “I’m still no fucking lesbo.”

Justin grinned. “Fine. Ocean.”

Brian frowned. “Why ocean?”

“Deep, unfathomable. Full of miracles we haven’t seen yet. Wild. The origin of life.”

Brian sighed. “You’re beyond corny. What are you on?”

“Happiness,” Justin smiled. “You.”

Brian grinned and rolled on top of him. “You’re getting worse.”

Justin returned the grin. “Your turn.”

Brian thought for a moment. “Baile.”

“What does that mean,” Justin asked.

“If I wanted you to know, I’d say it in English,” Brian smirked.

“Fine,” Justin shrugged, making a mental note to ask Shane or Richard for a translation, pretty certain that it was Irish. “Is that to say you love me?”

Brian shook his head. “In the extremely unlikely event I should wish to use a term of endearment.” He shuddered dramatically.

Justin beamed at him. “You’re toast.”

Brian raised his right eyebrow. “Oh? Why is that?”

Justin felt his smile widen. “You already said it. When you tucked me in earlier.”

“I thought you were asleep,” Brian murmured. “Cheat.”

Justin lifted his head to kiss him. “Space. Ocean. Space.”

Brian sighed. “Carbon.”

Justin tilted his head. “For I love you?”

Brian nodded reluctantly.

Justin smiled. “Why?”

Brian shrugged. “Because.”

Justin frowned. “Alright. I can figure it out. Carbon. Coal. Keeps you warm. Charcoal, for drawing with.”

Brian rolled off him, and pulled Justin along to hold him in his left arm. “You’re pretty much off base.”

“And you won’t tell me,” Justin concluded, realizing that Brian had maneuvered him onto the other side of the bed. What they clearly both thought of as ‘his’ side.

Brian shook his head. “You know what it’s supposed to say. The interpretation is mine.”

Justin laughed. “The devil holds the copyright.”

“So you do listen to me,” Brian grinned. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Justin nodded.

“Why did you leave? Not the official version. The truth.”

“You won’t like it,” Justin sighed.

Brian shrugged. “I still want to know.”

Justin nodded. “You deserve the truth. Remember when we were talking about not wanting to live with somebody who gives up a part of themselves?”

“That,” Brian wrinkled his nose. “I remember.”

“Of course you do,” Justin sighed. “It all came together then. That you were willing to give up the loft, Babylon. You did everything to make my dreams come true. The house. The wedding. Monogamy. You did it all. I didn’t have anything to give in return. I was terrified that one day, you’d wake up thinking I was using you, or even abusing you.”

Brian let go of him and pushed himself up on one elbow, his face stern. “You’re so fond of talking. But you don’t talk about the important things. Why didn’t you discuss it with me? Why didn't you even fucking ask what I was thinking?”

Justin ran his hand along Brian's arm in silent apology. “I know. I should have.”

Brian sighed. “You can’t do that, Justin. You have to talk to me before making decisions that concern us both. We wasted all that time, just because you're an arrogant little shit who thinks he knows all about me. You don’t know fuck.”

“I’m aware,” Justin murmured. “Why have me back?”

Brian met his eyes. “You can do anything. Even leave me.”

Justin closed his eyes, fighting the tears. “I’m not leaving again. I swear.”

Brian settled down again, pulling Justin close. “I’d appreciate that,” he said wryly.

“Why could you tell me after the bomb? You couldn’t after the bashing,” Justin asked quietly.

Brian shivered, Justin could feel it. His turn to tighten his hold protectively.

“Everybody I knew was at Babylon,” Brian whispered. “Everybody. You. The Sheas. The gang. Everybody. When I heard about the bomb, all I could think was – not Justin. You didn’t answer your cell. I was fucking praying, and you know I don’t even believe in god. Please don’t let anything happen to him. Everybody else, anybody else. But please, not my Justin.”

“When I found your mother, and Tucker – and you weren’t with them, I thought I’d go crazy.”

“I heard the firemen tell people to get out of the building, but you came in. Why did you come in,” Justin asked.

“You were still in there, your mother said. I had to find you,” Brian shrugged. “I was so relieved when I found you… so fucking happy you were alive…”

Justin sighed. Had anybody even asked Brian how he was coping? Had he? He had thought he had a right to feel rotten because he had been caught in the blast. Had he ever even thought about how much worse it must have been for Brian? Everybody Brian knew, everybody he cared about had been in that building. 

Gently, he pulled Brian even closer.

“Michael was injured, and Erin died that night,” Brian admitted softly. “God listened to me. And so help me, I was alright with that. Just so long as you were okay.”

Stunned, Justin kissed him. 

Brian was right. 

Words were not enough.

 

Limbs entangled, they held each other. In their silence, pain and uncertainty slowly drained away. Right now, they were just glad to be together again.

Justin remembered the demons under the bed Judson had mentioned earlier. There were more demons than he had ever thought possible, and they were uglier and more ominous than he had imagined. He pulled Brian even closer, determined to slay those demons, one by one.

“It's time we got up,” Brian said after a long while, sounding reluctant.

Justin stretched. “You go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Brian brushed a kiss across his lips, smiling. “It's still difficult to get you out of bed in the morning, is it?”

Justin grinned. “It’s even more difficult when you're in said bed.”

Brian sighed. “I really need to speak to Tom.”

Justin reached up to kiss him back. “I know.”

Brian shrugged and went into the bathroom.

Justin grinned. He didn’t really want to be within reach when Brian discovered the hickeys on his legs.

He heard the shower, but the water was turned off again almost immediately. Justin dived under the covers, yelping when Brian's damp weight landed on top of him seconds later.

Brian grabbed the duvet and yanked it away.

Justin looked up at him, uncertain whether Brian was really angry. It was difficult to tell, Brian was so good at keeping his face cool and impassive.

“I want to know why you did that,” Brian said, menacingly.

Justin gazed into his eyes, unable to gauge Brian’s reaction. “I guess I got carried away,” he whispered, suddenly shy again.

Brian raised that right eyebrow, and Justin wanted to kiss him. But he didn't dare. 

“Why?”

Still that cool, threatening tone. Justin sighed, and shook his head.

Brian took his head in his hands, holding him in place, staring him down. “What was that, my little tomcat marking his territory? Was that a nice thing to do, after I was so careful not to leave any visible mark on that tender pale skin of yours?”

He’s playing. Not really angry. Justin’s next sigh was a sigh of relief.

Justin felt the push of those strong hands, and obediently tilted his head back. 

Brian kissed him, gently at first, then more adamantly. Justin opened his lips, asking for more. Brian’s tongue plunged into his mouth, drinking his air, stealing his breath. Justin thrust into his touch, whimpering with flaring desire, until Brian pulled away.

Brian lifted his head, the hazel eyes bright and hard. “So. Was that a nice thing to do?”

Justin shook his head. “No, it wasn’t.”

Brian studied him, and Justin understood he was waiting for something.

Justin smiled, peeking at Brian from under his lashes. “I guess it's only fair you get to leave your mark on me.”

Brian kissed him again, hard and demanding. Then he left his mouth and trailed insistent kisses along his jaw, sucking gently at the spot where jaw joins throat.

“My territory,” Brian whispered huskily. “Mine. You’re not leaving me again.”

“I’m not,” Justin promised breathlessly.

“What are you,” Brian asked, his voice harsh, persistent.

Looking into those unrelenting eyes, Justin knew exactly what Brian needed to hear.

“I’m yours,” Justin said categorically. “Yours.”

Justin turned his head on the pillow, granting Brian greater access to that already sensitized area on his throat. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the mark of ownership Brian intended to brand him with, and that was just fine.

He hoped that the submissive gesture would touch that small savage spot deep in Brian’s soul, the spot Brian usually managed to hide even from himself.

Sometimes, on very rare occasions, he had managed to reach that wild bit of Brian, igniting the pyres of passion with untamed ferocity. He loved when Brian became feral.

“You're not running away again,” Brian growled, and Justin felt a rough fist in his hair securing his head. Brian's lips feasted on his throat; sucking, nipping, sampling.

Brian's lips closed over his mouth again, and there was that middle finger, swiftly and unerringly sweeping across his prostate.

Panting, Justin clenched his fingers on the sheets as he gave himself over to Brian’s needs. He felt the sweat run along his body as his muscles strained to accept the welcome abuse. His back was arched so much it felt like it was breaking. He knew it couldn't get any worse. He thought it couldn’t get any better.

Brian broke the skin on his neck, and simultaneously, a second finger joined the first deep inside him. The delightful throbbing shuddered through Justin, eliciting a low cry of appreciative protest.

His world imploded into a white-hot star of incredible agony and unimaginable ecstasy when Brian pushed his prying fingers further, smoothly rubbing across Justin's prostate, rolling gently, brushing arrogantly.

Defenseless under the hands that toyed with him, Justin trashed wildly, breath and heart racing.

“Who calls the shots, Justin?”

Justin's thoughts sped along with his energetic heartbeat. The sensations already vibrated through his body, set fire to every cell, shook him to the core, nudged his soul – and Justin knew he wanted more, still more.

“Tell me,” Brian insisted, halting his movements.

“Brian – don’t stop!” The cry was torn from him, leaving his throat raw.

Brian smiled and picked up the maddening rhythm again. “You like that, tomcat?”

“Y…yesss,” the word hissed against his teeth.

Brian wavered, slowed his finger. 

Justin’s protest was a small sound, and he felt Brian respond with a quiet laugh. Justin pushed down, trying to recapture that stimulation again.

“Bad boy,” Brian murmured. “Who calls the shots?”

Justin hesitated, tried to take no notice of that damned finger working in such frustratingly undemanding moves.

“You call the shots,” Justin finally gave in, as he knew he must.

He wasn’t prepared for the tongue Brian drove into his mouth in time to the movements of his fingers. He moaned, digging his fingers into Brian's shoulders, biceps, any part of him he could reach.

Subject to the control Brian exercised, Justin let himself float on the twin sensations for long moments before giving Brian what he was waiting for.

“Take me. Do what you like with me,” Justin whispered, looking into hazel eyes that were mostly black, Brian’s pupils had dilated that much.

“I call the shots,” Brian confirmed, every movement of his fingers pushing Justin closer to the edge.

“Yes. Yes,” Justin moaned, struggling, trying to get even closer to Brian.

Brian chuckled low in his throat, lapping delicately at the drops of blood Justin felt mingling with the sweat on his skin. He pushed his tongue into Justin’s mouth, and Justin let himself be explored, raided, devoured.

Justin whimpered, trying to hold still. Impossible. Had to get closer, had to get away from this delicious torture.

Brian’s fingers tightened in his hair. “Where do you think you're going, tomcat?”

Simultaneously, the fingers inside him scissored, stretching his muscles further. Not enough. Fuck the fingers. He wanted cock, and he wanted it now.

Justin fought to surface for air, for coherent thought, against the tidal wave of his surging senses. “More. More, Brian.”

“More, what?” Brian whispered, immobile, his lips softly touching Justin's cheek. “Tell me what you want.”

Justin paused, his thoughts skipping on the hot cobblestones of desire.

Brian went back to the pattern he had established before he tried to spread his fingers, while his lips closed on Justin’s earlobe, pulling gently at first, then nipping sharply. 

Justin gasped.

“Look at me, Justin.”

Justin obeyed, and behind a curtain of hungry fever detected doubt in Brian’s eyes.

“I trust you, Brian. Take me.”

The curtain lifted, and uncertainty fled. 

Brian unclenched his fingers from Justin’s hair, keeping up the rhythm deep inside him. They kissed, and Justin felt him relax. Temptation still flirted with his mind, the lure was hard to resist. He wanted it rough, loved it rough.

Brian was normally gentle, considerate. Sometimes, he played at rough, but rarely followed through. 

He had, though, a few times. After Ethan. After Hollywood.

When he was jealous, Justin concluded. Of course, he had no reason to be jealous now. But something told him that Brian needed the release, needed to let go of the dark desires. And he was determined to give Brian what he needed.

Brian was nibbling at his earlobe again, making it extremely difficult to think. Even worse, those damn fingers tapped a little staccato inside him.

“Brian. Go for it. Go wild.”

Brian looked into his eyes, pupils dilated so much that the hazel was almost invisible, just a very thin ring of light around a black well of lust.

Justin stole a kiss, and ran his hand from Brian's hair down his cheek, following the contour of his throat down to the hollow, and from there to his chest, brushing his fingertips across a hard nipple.

“You want to. I want you to.”

Brian still hesitated. “You sure?”

“Positiv. Go,” Justin urged.

With that, Brian began a callous attack on Justin's senses. 

Oh, Brian knew his body. Knew it better than he himself did. Knew how to pinch the nipples, nip, bite, lick and suck until they darkened to purple and were so sensitive that Justin flinched when Brian so much as breathed on them. Each lick of that smooth tongue was sweet agony.

Brian knew how to kiss, and suck and inflict love-bites until Justin squirmed helplessly under his greedy mouth, pleading for more, and yet more.

Brian's hand knew how to fondle his cock, firmly, demandingly. That hand made him as hard as rock, and so responsive that all it took was a teasing fingertip dancing along the crown to make Justin shudder and moan.

Brian knew how to kiss him, cruel kisses that left Justin breathless, tiny drops of sweat and blood glistening on his lips. 

Knew how to hold back and bank the fire so that the razing could carry on for a while longer. 

Knew how to rub and chafe that small spot inside his body, until Justin clung to him, whimpering, crying ‘Brian’ over and over, the name a melody of emotion.

And still, not enough. 

Justin was begging, begging with his whole body, the world narrowed down to this one man who held him in his thrall. His magician, his beginning and his end.

Brian shifted, and finally, finally joined their bodies, filling him, warming him, completing him. 

This time, Justin’s soul remembered what the body had forgotten.

Remembered how to match the pace, pulse quickening, all senses heightening – body, heart and spirit coming together to celebrate love in a symphony of passion.

Together, they tilted over the edge, safe in each other’s arms.


	27. Twenty-Seven

Brian brushed the hair away from his forehead, tenderly. “Hey, Tomcat. Come back to me.”

Dreamily, Justin opened his eyes, every cell sated, so relaxed that his body felt insubstantial. “Wow,” he murmured. “You’re so amazing.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Brian smiled. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Justin shook his head, and reached up for a hug. “You didn't. Never have, never will. I’m fine. Just exhausted. You wore me out.”

“Stay put,” Brian smiled. “I’ll leave the Jeep; you come home when you’re ready.”

Justin studied his face for a moment, wondering whether Brian was fully aware what he had just said.

Flooded with tenderness, Justin returned the smile. “I need to be with you more than I need to sleep. I’m getting up.”

Brian smile was dazzling.

 

They made their way into the bathroom, stepping into the shower together. Brian adjusted the sprays, and Justin grabbed the soap to wash Brian. They meshed like they always had, without even having to think about it.

Justin dropped to his knees to wash Brian’s legs, and bit his lip. That had to hurt. He had been way more zealous than he had intended to be. Brian was covered in dark marks, from both knees up to his groin. Hesitantly, he looked up at Brian to encounter one of those rare, wide smiles.

“You wanted me to think of you with every step I take,” Brian said. “As if I needed a reminder.”

Damn. Brian knew him inside out. How could he ever have thought that Brian didn’t know him, didn't understand him?

Finished with his task, Justin stood. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize I went overboard like that.”

Brian shrugged, pulling him into an embrace. “Turn your head to the left.”

Justin complied, without thinking. “Ouch!”

Brian grinned and kissed his cheek. “Looks like somebody got you back, Tomcat.”

“You did,” Justin said ruefully. “I like tomcat better than sunshine.”

Brian kissed his lips this time, gently. “They both suit you just fine.”

Justin knew that every time Brian heard somebody call him Sunshine, he’d think of Debbie. He would have to stop people from calling him that, he decided.

They toweled themselves dry and met in front of the mirror to brush their teeth and to shave.

Justin considered his reflection for a moment, then grinned. Shit, he looked wasted. Why had they bothered to leave the house? One look at him, and everybody would know.

“You sure you’d not rather stay here,” Brian offered, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

Justin smiled back, aware it looked wicked. “No. I don’t care that everybody will know what we got up to.”

“Yeah, they’ll know all about getting it up,” Brian snorted. “As though they couldn't guess.”

Justin shrugged, regretting it instantly.

Brian caught his expression, and bit his lip. He opened a cabinet Justin hadn’t even seen, it blended in with the walls. 

Now that he looked for it, Justin could see there was a row of three cabinets. Small wonder the bathroom looked so tidy.

Brian had taken out a tube of ointment, and now rubbed it into the hickeys on his throat and chest. “That should help,” he murmured. “Guess I got carried away, too.”

Justin smiled at him. “I wanted you to get carried away. You know I like it rough.”

Brian shook his head. “You’re more wildcat than tomcat.”

“I’ve been starving for you for over a year, what do you expect,” Justin whispered, standing on tiptoe for a kiss.

“You should’ve come home sooner,” Brian said. “Why did you wait so long?”

That was the second time Brian had mentioned ‘home’. 

Justin sighed. “Lindsay and Michael both told me you weren’t interested anymore.”

Brian put the ointment away, snorting. “It didn’t occur to you to ask me, of course.”

Justin put his arms around his waist from behind, leaning his cheek against Brian’s warm back. Brian put his hands on his arms, turning his head sideways.

“I’m sorry,” Justin murmured. “I made so many fucking mistakes.”

Brian turned, pulling him against his chest. “I’m still not doing repeats. It’s over, Justin. Let's start with a clean slate. I’m sure we can come up with some new mistakes to apologize for and to agonize over.”

Justin nodded against his chest, then looked up. “Alright. But I need to learn, Brian. There are so many things that I’m only beginning to understand now. Can we please talk about them, so I can figure myself out? I need to know where I went wrong, and why.”

Brian tightened his hold. “You should know by now that you can always talk to me, Justin. Just quit apologizing, will you? It's boring. And you don’t need to.”

Justin kissed his chest, feeling close to Brian, and safe. He sighed. He hadn’t felt safe for so long. Hadn’t been close to anybody in even longer.

 

They went into the bedroom to get dressed, and Justin asked the question that had bugged him since last night. “Why did you have clothes in that bag? You didn’t need them,” he pointed at the wardrobe.

Brian smirked. “If I hadn’t taken any clothes, you would have wanted to play twenty questions.”

Justin laughed. “True. Can I borrow a white T-shirt?”

Brian tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Oh, lovely. Mr. Taylor is going to milk this for all it’s worth. White and innocent, to go with those baby-blues and the golden hair. Just so the hickeys stand out incongruously.”

“You taught me to do that,” Justin grinned. “Kinney’s law. If you can't hide it, flaunt it.”

Brian snorted, and tossed him a thin white dress-shirt. “Don’t wear Tees for a day or two,” he advised. “Your back muscles won't like getting in and out of those.” 

Nice, a silky material, smooth. Hugo Boss, Justin saw. He slipped into it, leaving the top four buttons open.

Brian shook his head, sauntered up to him and closed two buttons. “I don’t like you looking like a slut,” he commented.

Justin grinned and grabbed Brian for a deep kiss. “I knew you’d do that,” he whispered.

Brian rolled his eyes. “If you’re not careful, you’ll get it one more time.”

Justin smiled. “Fine with me.”

“Say that again when you’re trying to sit down,” Brian shot back, dragging him to the front door.

 

Brian took them to a deli around the corner first, where they bought fresh rolls, some bread, Danishes, éclairs and assorted bagels. The smell of freshly baked bread was delicious, and Justin’s stomach growled.

“Get yourself something to eat,” Brian smiled.

Justin shook his head. If he ate now, he wouldn’t get Brian to have breakfast with him.

Brian shrugged and got himself a Latte. 

Justin opted for a milkshake, making Brian grin devilishly.

“Save the comments,” Justin murmured. “Please.”

Brian laughed throatily, but said nothing.

Their purchases went onto the back seat, and Brian said, “Remind me to have the car washed.”

Justin grinned. Eradicate Michael’s presence in the Jeep? “I won't forget.”

Brian unlocked his door and tossed him the keys, and Justin slipped behind the wheel, noticing appreciatively that Brian had provided him with a cushion. Sitting down was really not very comfortable, he realized. And those muscles in his lower back were commenting on the sudden increase in exercise, too.

Stopping at a red light, he asked, “Why am I driving?”

“Because it’s easier that way. You’re behind the wheel,” Brian grinned.

“Why am I behind the wheel,” Justin persisted.

“That’s where the driver usually sits.”

Justin rolled his eyes. “Brian,” he said patiently. “Give.”

Brian sighed. “I’m on meds,” he said finally. “I’m not supposed to drive.”

“If memory serves, you were driving on Friday,” Justin frowned. What meds? Now was not the time to ask, he knew.

“I was alone in the car,” Brian replied.

“You just got yourself a chauffeur,” Justin decided. “Don't bother to protest.”

Brian looked out of the window, not saying a word. 

Shooting him a quick glance, Justin saw his lips quiver; Brian was suppressing a smile.

 

Watching the Jeep pull into the driveway from his post behind the window, Shane said. “Wow. An hour to spare.”

Judson laughed. “You know Brian. Never late. Is Justin with him?”

“Yes,” Shane snorted. “Just. He was driving. The poor kid, he’s really stiff.”

“Still,” Ken joined in the banter. “I would’ve thought Brian would do something about that.”

“I doubt Justin can get it up again any time soon, he looks shattered,” Shane grinned evilly. “I was talking about his legs.”

They shared a smile as they watched Justin gingerly lean against the car, saying something to Brian. 

Brian walked smoothly around the car, and Ken shook his head. “Well, well. He’s certainly got the glide in his stride, doesn’t he.”

Judson sighed. “Fuck, I really should have done it with him one more time before I let him go.”

“Too late,” Dave said. “Look at that. Brian only has eyes for Justin now.”

“I’m aware,” Judson said regretfully. “They’re beautiful together.”

They watched together as Gus and JR turned up, getting their good-morning kisses from both men, and an éclair each. Smiling adoringly at Brian, the kids strolled off around the corner together.

“Brian is spoiling the kids. Eclairs first thing in the morning! I so didn't see that,” Melanie grinned. “Boy, those guys sure look happy!”

“They do,” Jim smiled at her. “What’s that dark mark on Justin’s throat?”

“A line of love-bites, courtesy of his favorite man-eater,” Judson laughed.

“I didn't know Brian was a vampire,” Jim grinned. “Cute. I guess I’d better go find some ointment for the kid.”

“I think we need to stop calling Justin a kid,” Melanie said, growing serious.

“You’re right,” Jim admitted. “It's just that he seems so young!”

“They both seem about a hundred years younger than I feel,” Melanie sighed. “Brian will have something to say if we keep calling Justin a kid. He didn’t like it a year ago; he’s bound to like it even less now.”

“He’s the one who sees Justin's achievements most clearly,” Shane said. “It only took him about three months to stop thinking of Justin as a kid.”

“Did you meet Justin that early,” Melanie asked.

“No. When I spoke to Brian on the phone, he was ‘my stalker’ and ‘that kid I told you about’, and then from one day to the next, it was Justin this and Justin that. I don't think Brian even noticed.” Shane shook his head. “We were in Europe at the time; my parents took us on a world trip. They had invited Brian, but Brian didn't want to leave his job.”

“Just think, if he had, he might never have met Justin,” Carrie said softly.

Shane shook his head. “They would’ve met. It was meant to be.”

Carrie rolled her eyes. “You’re hopelessly romantic, Shane.”

“I get it from my mom,” Shane hugged her to him. “I hear she’s like that.”

“Not at all,” Carrie grinned. “I’m pragmatic.”

Jim laughed. “Is that why you had stars in your eyes when you saw Brian and Justin dance last night?”

Carrie shrugged. “We were so hoping Justin would come back. No offense, Judson, but…”

“I know,” Judson smiled easily. “I’m glad he did.”

“You’re a generous man,” Richard said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“It’s worth it,” Judson said. “Just to see that look on Brian's face.”

They watched as Brian leaned forward to capture Justin’s lips in a tender kiss. They drew apart, their eyes meeting as their foreheads touched. 

Brian said something, and Justin smiled radiantly.

“Let's hope Justin has developed some staying power,” Shane muttered.

“Shane.” His father shook his head. “Not a word to Brian. Not one word, you hear me? It's not for you to question his decisions.”

“But…”

“Don’t become a Michael,” Richard said sternly. “Brian isn’t yours.”

Shane shot him a dirty look, and walked out of the room.

“He just wants to protect Brian,” Judson said quietly. “We all do.”

“Only our Erin could protect Brian from himself,” Carrie said sadly. “Maybe Justin can learn.”

“Going by what we saw yesterday, he’s getting there,” Jim said.

“Either way,” Richard sighed. “The last thing Brian needs is for anybody to second-guess him.”

“I think you’re right,” Melanie said. “He doesn't take advice very well, and certainly not where Justin is concerned.”

“Let's go outside,” Judson suggested. “Looks like they’re coming in now, and Brian won't like a welcome committee.”

 

“Have they left,” Brian asked.

Justin reached up for another kiss. “I guess they got bored. You weren’t groping me.”

“Is that what they were waiting for,” Brian smirked. “I can handle that.”

“Too late, they're gone.”

Brian shrugged. “Too bad. Maybe tomorrow.”

Justin giggled. “Tomorrow never comes.”

“I come,” Brian raised an eyebrow at him. “Always. You can rely on that.”

“I know,” Justin felt his smile widen.

“Let's go feed the horde before the bread goes off,” Brian said, reaching inside the Jeep for their supplies.

They went inside, leaving the food with Andrea, who was preparing breakfast.

 

Together, they stepped out onto the patio, and Justin felt the sudden urge to grab Brian’s hand. Certain that the gesture wouldn't be welcome, he suppressed the impulse.

Everybody was staring at them, and Justin was hard-put not to squirm. Fuck, could they be any more obvious?

Brian slipped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. “Get over it, folks,” he said calmly. “Otherwise we’ll start charging, a buck a look.”

“I’m just admiring your handiwork,” Ken said cheekily. “Or is that work of mouth?”

Brian shook his head. “Bad pun, Ken. Of course, you guys haven’t seen a hickey in ages. Didn’t you say you were down to twice?”

Ken laughed. “Right. So, if Justin doesn’t sport any love-bites, are we to assume you’re down to twice?”

“Don’t assume,” Justin said, keeping a straight face. With Brian at his shoulder, he felt he could take on the world. “They’re not all in places you get to see.”

Dave laughed at the astonished look of his partner. “Did you think he was just a pretty face, Ken?”

“Sorry, Justin. It’s dead easy to underestimate you,” Ken said.

“Maybe you should talk to him some time,” Brian suggested a trifle coldly. “Rather than just look and presume.”

“Brian doesn't go for pretty faces,” Jim grinned. “He likes substance.”

“And I thought he liked hot and compatible,” Melanie smiled.

Brian shook his head. “What, you all read a lexicon last night? Didn’t any of you get laid?”

Just then, Jennifer and Tucker joined them, hand in hand.

“I retract the question,” Brian grinned.

Everybody laughed.

Tucker shook his head. “You going to let us in on the joke?”

Jennifer frowned at Justin. “I’m going to buy you a turtleneck sweater, sweetheart.”

Yesterday’s annoyance returned full force, and Justin swallowed bile.

“You mustn’t,” Daphne yawned, pulling out a chair for herself. “Brands are intended to be seen.”

“Thanks, Daphne,” Brian grinned at her. “Verbal 700 really pays off.”

Daphne smiled back. “You should know, you sign my pay-checks.”

 

They settled at the table, and Justin wondered whether Brian would need persuasion to eat. 

Apparently not. Brian buttered a roll for himself, adding tomato and oregano, no salt.

Justin poured a large amount of milk into a cup and added coffee, setting it next to Brian’s plate together with a glass of Evian. Brian smiled.

Melanie fixed the cornflakes for the kids.

“Where’s Lindsay,” Leda asked, reaching for a Danish.

“Still in bed,” Melanie grouched. “Nursing a hangover. Another one.”

Leda grinned, looking at the open window above. “How about some nice loud music, Brian?”

Justin watched Brian exchange a look with Mel, then grin. “Molly, will you do the honors?”

Molly jumped up. “Sure, love to!”

She took a moment to select her CD, then pressed play. When the first strands of music filled the air, Justin coughed and almost choked on his bagel. ‘I’ve had the time of my life’, indeed.

Molly returned his glare with an innocent smile.

Brian patted his back solicitously, and whispered, “That dreadful sense of humor unfortunately seems to run in the family, Justin.”

“Really,” Justin muttered, glaring at Ken and Dave, who were both smiling a bit too widely.

The window above them slammed shut with a resounding bang. 

They all laughed, and Molly asked, “Do you think she’d appreciate ‘Get up, stand up’?”

“’Rum and Coca Cola’ is probably a bit too obvious,” Ken snickered.

Brian grinned at Richard, “They want educating.” He went to the stereo, and after a moment, Justin recognized ‘Whiskey in the Jar’.

Richard and Carrie laughed, and Shane shook his head.

 

Andrea stood next to Brian, and Justin heard her tell him that Tom Gabriel had arrived and was waiting in the office.

“You’ll have to excuse me,” Brian said. “It’ll take an hour, tops.”

“Do you and Tom want coffee,” Justin offered.

“Yes, please,” Brian went inside, and Justin poured coffee for him and the lawyer.

“You know how Tom likes his coffee,” Richard asked.

Justin shrugged. “I used to work at the Liberty diner. After a while, people are reduced to ‘coffee, black, two sweeteners, and a lemon bar to go’.”

“So what’s Brian,” Shane asked.

“Coffee, black, tuna sandwich, hold the mayo.” Justin grinned.

“But you just put milk in his cup,” Molly said.

Justin shrugged. “Brian used to add his own milk; he didn’t trust the stuff at the diner.”

“With good reason,” Jim said. “Anybody remember the prawn cocktail of 1995?”

Shane laughed. “I only remember the effects it had on other people. Brian had warned us to stay away from it.”

“What happened,” Judson asked.

“Michael, Ted and Emmett missed the King of Babylon contest. Poor things,” Shane smirked. “Remind me, I have some video footage I can show you.”

“Brian will so kill you,” Jim warned.

“I’ll risk it,” Shane said. “I bet Justin wants to see how Brian won the crown, twice in a row.”

Justin took a deep breath. “He never told me. Neither did Michael, and I would’ve expected him to say something!”

Shane smirked. “He’s still sore. He missed it both times!”

“Prawn cocktail one year, and the stomach flu the next,” Jim said. “Strange that only Michael, Ted and Emmett caught it, and Brian was as fit as a fiddle.”

“Never drink anything that you didn't watch being poured into a clean dry glass,” Justin smirked. “Especially true around one Brian Kinney, who’s really good at chemistry.”

He poured two glasses of Evian, put everything on a tray and took it to Brian’s office.

 

Tom got up and shook his hand. “Good to see you back, Justin.”

“Thanks, Tom,” Justin smiled. “It’s good to be back. Is it alright if I use the studio, Brian?”

Brian’s lids fluttered. “You live here, remember? Do whatever you like.”

Justin smiled. “Space, ocean, space.”

“Likewise. Get out of here,” Brian rolled his eyes.

Justin pulled the door shut and went upstairs, grabbing a bottle of water for himself on the way past the kitchen.

Suddenly, he couldn't wait to paint!

 

An hour later, Shane and Ken were in the kitchen, waiting for their pot of coffee to percolate, when Brian walked Tom to the door.

“Thanks again, Tom. I appreciate it,” they heard Brian say. Tom’s reply was too low for them to make out the words, but they heard Brian laugh.

Brian came into the kitchen, putting empty cups and glasses into the dishwasher.

“Want some coffee,” Shane offered.

“That’s what I came looking for,” Brian said. “Thanks!”

“So, you sorted Gus out. What about your nephews?”

“Those, too, Ken,” Brian sighed. “Claire is going to be pissed.”

“You okay,” Shane asked.

Brian smiled. “I’m fine.”

“Pleasure you can’t measure,” Shane said.

“Lame,” Brian muttered, sipping his hot coffee. “Justin is no Mars bar.”

Shane shrugged. “Did you have to leave those marks?”

“No, I didn't have to,” Brian smirked. “I wanted to.”

Ken laughed softly. “Shut up, Shane. I’m pretty sure Justin knows how to handle Brian.”

Brian looked at him, suddenly serious. “Are you sore at me?”

“Because of Judson, you mean?” Ken surmised.

Brian nodded.

Ken shrugged. “No. We’re not picking sides, you’re both adults. Quite apart from the fact that Judson said that you never made any promises. Be different if you had.”

Brian put his head to one side, but said nothing.

Shane had the feeling he was waiting for something more.

Ken smiled. “Heavens, Bri, we’re friends. You know what you’re doing. If you need our blessings, you’ve got them.”

Brian relaxed visibly. “I sort of got used to you guys. I’d hate falling out over this.”

“Even so, you’d still choose Justin. And that’s as it should be,” Ken put an arm around Brian's shoulder. “I realize Michael and Ted were a blow, Brian. We’re not judging. We’re not looking to get anything out of you. All we want is for you to be as happy as we are.”

Brian grinned, “Twice a week wouldn’t make me very happy.”

Ken laughed, boxing his shoulder. “Asshole. You wait till you’re our age; see how often you can get it up.”

“Maybe you’ll actually get to talk to Justin in your old age,” Shane blurted out, unable to stop himself.

“Gee Shane, thanks for that vote of confidence,” Brian said sourly. “Do you really think a good fuck is all he is?”

Ken shook his head, but Shane ignored the warning. “I know he means more to you than the other way around. Be careful, is all I’m saying.”

“Don’t, Brian,” Ken said. “That’s not worth replying to. Shane, you’ve never even been in a relationship. You have no idea what Brian means to Justin. Don’t presume to know, just from what you’ve seen since Saturday.”

“And you know so much more,” Shane said heatedly, aware that he was standing on very thin ice.

Ken shrugged. “I know I don’t know, that’s the difference. If you can't trust Justin, you’ll have to trust Brian.”

Shane sighed. “I just don’t want him to hurt you again, Bri.”

“As long as I have Justin, I’ll take the hurt,” Brian said calmly. “And I don’t give fuck what you think.”

Brian put his cup down with slightly more force than was strictly necessary and went outside.

Ken shook his head again. “Honestly, Shane. If you have nothing nice to say, can’t you keep your mouth shut?”

Shane sighed. “I’m worried. I’m fucking scared.”

“We all are. But voicing our concerns isn’t going to help Brian any. He needs confidence, and support. Not negativity and criticism.”

“I know you’re right,” Shane said quietly. “I’ll work on my attitude towards Justin, I promise.”

“You’d better,” Ken advised. “Or you’re losing Brian. He’s ruthless when it comes to Justin.”

 

Brian came out of the house, and Molly immediately grabbed his arm and practically dragged him to the notebook Leda was just setting up.

Jennifer sighed. Between her kids and his friends, Brian wasn't going to get much peace this week.

Brian sat down with Leda and Molly, all three talking animatedly.

Jennifer grinned to herself. Brian took charge; it looked like he was explaining something to the two women.

Jennifer sighed again. And when had she begun to think of her little Molly as a woman? Was it a good idea to let her hang out with Leda so much? And would Molly listen to her if she tried to put a stop to that friendship?

She remembered Debbie telling her that it was never a question of ‘are you’, that it was always ‘I know’. 

With Molly, she wasn’t so sure. 

Then again, she hadn’t been sure about Justin. Even when she found that piece of paper saying ‘Brian’ over and over again, she still hadn't been convinced, had hoped that it might be a phase.

She snorted quietly. 

Right, a phase. One that had lasted for some six years. 

But was Justin really gay? Or was he just enamored by Brian, his beauty, his charm, his intelligence, and his wealth? Was her Justin a bounty hunter?

Jennifer sighed. Craig still maintained that Justin would be straight and probably happily married to Daphne by now, if only she had managed to keep him out of Brian’s claws.

She wished Craig had been there to hear Justin’s proclamation of ‘I like dick’. Even the therapist had looked mildly shocked. So, did Justin like dick, or just Brian’s dick?

Ethan hadn't worked out, and that was hardly surprising. Justin was highly strung, and Ethan had come across as pushy. Had there ever been anybody else? Anybody serious? She didn't know, Justin hardly talked to her anymore. Until he mentioned that guy in New York, she had never heard the name from him. Did that man Tim actually exist? She knew her Justin lied when he felt insecure, and he certainly hadn't been comfortable that day. Actually, she had enjoyed his discomfort. The brat. Why hadn't he come to the damn wedding? 

Yes, she admitted, she worried. More than she might have done if he were straight. When Justin was with Brian, she worried less. But nothing could convince her that Justin was good for Brian. Justin was determined to get his own way, and Brian let him get away with murder.

“Deep thoughts,” Carrie asked, joining her.

Jennifer smiled, gratefully accepting the iced tea Carrie handed her. “Justin thoughts,” she admitted.

Carrie shrugged. “Brian will look after him, you’ll see.”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about. What does Brian get out of this whole thing?”

“He gets Justin, and he seems satisfied with that. Happy, even.”

Jennifer shook her head. “Brian looks happy today, that’s true. Give it a month, or two. Then Justin will have settled in again, and he’ll start making demands. And Brian will have the look about him that he had just before Justin went to New York.”

Carrie looked at her, surprise evident. “I don’t know Justin yet, but I know our Brian. Brian loves your boy. He kept denying it, because it scared him. He hates not being in control of himself. If Brian loves Justin, then Justin is worth loving, I’m sure.”

“I wish I could be that certain,” Jennifer sighed.

“It's not for us to doubt it,” Carrie said gently. “As with any other relationship, all you can do is hope.”


	28. Twenty-Eight

“Give me a minute,” Justin said when the door opened behind him. “Don’t look just yet.”

Brian moved to the other window and sat in the window seat.

Justin concentrated on the finishing touches of the still life he had just created. Finally satisfied, he took a step back and tilted his head to assess his work with narrowed eyes. Yes. He had done it.

Smiling, he wiped his fingers on a cloth and joined Brian. Brian looked tense.

Justin slipped his arms around him. “What?”

Brian leaned against him with a sigh. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Empathizing.”

Justin grunted. “Yeah, well. I happen to care. Deal with it.”

“It wasn’t a complaint,” Brian said mildly.

“Was it a compliment?”

“If you want to take it as one,” Brian smiled at him.

“I do,” Justin smiled back. “So, who?”

“Who what?”

Justin rolled his eyes. “Tell me if you don’t want to talk.”

“Shane,” Brian said, sounding grim.

“He doesn’t like me,” Justin said matter-of-factly.

“He doesn’t fucking know you!”

“I’m rather hoping that’s the reason he doesn't like me,” Justin grinned.

Now Brian rolled his eyes. “If he doesn't keep his mouth shut, I’ll kick his ass so hard he won’t need a plane back to New York!”

“He can have an opinion, but he has no right to voice it,” Justin asked gently.

“Fuck you,” Brian snorted.

Justin smiled. “Tonight, sweetheart. I promise.”

“Did you just call me sweetheart?”

“Me? No. I wouldn’t risk that.”

Brian pulled him into a deep kiss.

Justin leaned his forehead against Brian’s and smiled. “What’s the real trouble? That Shane has a problem with your decision?”

“There’s that,” Brian admitted. “I don’t like how prejudiced he is against you.”

Justin thought for a moment. “Look, I overheard things on Friday I wasn't supposed to hear. From what I gather, Shane has to come by and clean up when I’m gone. You can’t expect him to be overly fond of me.”

“I don’t need…” Brian started, his voice hard.

Justin tightened his hold. “Brian. I know how rotten I feel when I’m away from you. And I’m the one leaving! If you feel half as bad, I’m glad Shane is there for you. Whether you need him or not.”

Brian took a deep breath.

“I can say I’m not leaving again. I know in myself I’m not. But you have no reason to believe me. I have to prove it. Shane is just saying what you might say if you were on the outside looking in. Maybe you're so angry because he gives sound to the tiny voice you can hear, the bit of you that doesn't know how to believe me.”

Brian met his eyes. “What's this, psychology 101?”

Justin smiled. “I know I’m right.”

Brian pulled his lips into his mouth and nodded reluctantly. “I can't help it. Ever since that fiddler…” He trailed off and shrugged.

“I don’t blame you,” Justin murmured guiltily. “I’d feel like that.”

“You’re not waiting for me to have a grand mal and kick you out again?”

Justin laughed. “You’ve done that exactly twice, and both times with good reason. Besides, you never left town, never stopped talking to me. I always knew where you were, where to reach you.”

“You think those were good reasons?” Brian sounded shocked.

“Sure,” Justin said easily. “I knew better than to leave the door unlocked. You had every right and reason to expect me to be careful in your home. I’m just glad it wasn’t my fault, after all. As for the other shit – I thought you were angry with me, but really, you were pissed because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I told Mikey, and then you had to deal with his issues instead of yours. You must have thought that my issues would be a hundred times worse.”

“Something like that,” Brian confessed quietly. “I didn't want you to stay awake at night and count my breaths.”

“Like you did, after the bashing?”

Brian averted his eyes, looking out of the window. He said nothing.

“I know you did,” Justin whispered. “I know you were at the hospital every night, standing in the door, watching me through the glass.”

Justin felt Brian flinch under his hands.

“You weren’t supposed to find out, who told you? Your mother?”

“Mom knew?” Justin said, so hurt that it took his breath away for a moment. “Mom knew, and she never fucking said a thing?”

“She wasn't supposed to tell you,” Brian said.

“Fuck that. I was so hurt, so fucking upset that you didn’t give a shit. She should have said something!”

“Justin,” Brian moved, pulling him into a firm embrace. “I’ve always given a shit. From the first moment. More than a shit.”

Justin leaned into the embrace. “I know,” he murmured. “Only sometimes, I forget.”

He looked up in time to see Brian’s mouth twitch, the way it did when Brian was in pain.

“This time, I won’t let you forget,” Brian promised. “I’ve grown up some.”

Justin sighed. “I have some catching up to do.”

“Is the painting finished? Can I look,” Brian asked, slipping from the window seat.

“Yes,” Justin smiled, his joy in his work surfacing again.

Brian stood in front of the easel, his eyes wide. 

He kept quiet for so long that Justin almost started to shift from foot to foot.

“Name your price,” Brian finally said. “I want that for myself. Gus can't have it.”

Justin felt his smile widen. Yes! If Brian liked it that much, it was good.

“A kiss,” Justin said. “It’s yours for a kiss.”

Brian turned and looked at him. “Justin. You need an agent.”

Justin stared, he knew Brian was serious. “What do I need an agent for?”

“I buy art. Not just because I like it, also because you can make a lot of money if you have a reasonably good instinct for it. I know what sells. I can tell quality from junk. You're selling yourself short. That painting you sold in New York? You could have asked three times as much, and with an agent, you would have.”

“How do you know what I sold,” Justin asked, tilting his head.

Brian met his eyes. “I kept an eye on you.”

Damn. Yes. Otherwise, how would Brian have known what kind of building his NY apartment had been in? He needed to pay more attention to the way Brian phrased himself.

“This one’s not for sale,” Justin said. “I painted it for you. The painting for Gus is over there,” he pointed.

Brian looked, and sighed. “Fuck, I wish I had somebody with your talent at Kinnetik. You have adjusted it to a kid’s eyes, and it’s so subtle adults will like it, too. It’s brilliant.”

Justin smiled. “All this time, I’ve been yearning for somebody to talk to about these things. Why the hell were you hiding?”

“I’m shy,” Brian grinned.

Justin nodded. “You stayed out the way. You waited until I was ready to talk to you.”

Brian shrugged. “Maybe I waited until I was ready.”

“Whatever,” Justin sighed contentedly. “If I get that kiss, the painting is yours. For a second kiss, I’ll help you hang it.”

Smiling, Brian pulled him into his arms, and Justin knew he had asked the right price for his work.

 

Brian and Justin came downstairs together, not touching.

Judson grinned. Brian not touching meant he wanted more than a mere touch. 

There were certain things he had learned about Brian in their months together, and he was aware that Brian had never meant for him to find out.

Richard put his arm around Brian's shoulders. “Can I steal you for a while, mac?”

Brian exchanged a quick look with Justin, then shrugged. “Sure. Let’s go in the office.”

Judson watched as Daphne waved Justin over to where she was sitting with Molly and Leda. All three of them were smiling at him widely, but it was a gentle tease. From Justin’s body-language, he didn’t seem to mind that.

Leda had the notebook open, and Judson could see she had thumbnails on the screen.

Justin sat next to her and leaned on her shoulder to look at the photos; Daphne sat on his other side and slipped an arm around Justin’s waist. Molly stood behind him, both hands on his shoulders.

Judson grinned. There, that’ll tell Jennifer and Shane, he thought.

Dave caught his eye and smiled in invitation. Judson picked up his glass and made his way over to him and Ken.

“Headcount,” Dave said. “Who’s on their side?”

“I am,” Judson grinned. “The three ladies over there are. So are Jim and Carrie. Richard, too, I guess. Emmett and Calvin, by default. Ben, Hunter. Tucker and Matt probably don’t care one way or the other.”

“We are,” Ken said calmly. “That leaves Shane and Jennifer, Melanie and Lindsay.”

Judson sighed. “I’m glad Carl took Debbie away. She didn't fit in, neither did Michael and Ted.”

“Their own fault they didn’t fit in,” Ken said. “We tried to get them to talk, but they seemed rather reluctant. Shame about Carl though, he’s a great guy.”

“He has to be, to handle Debbie. Mel seems okay with Brian now,” Dave offered. “What about Lindsay?”

“From what I know, she gets jealous. She wanted to marry Brian when they were in college.”

“What, she didn’t believe he’s gay,” Dave laughed.

Judson shrugged. “It would appear she made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

Ken made a face. “He slept with that little tramp?”

“He was drunk and she must have been a different person then,” Judson sighed. “Shame we’re getting to know her now, when all the alcohol has pickled her brain.”

“So, that’s Lindsay, Jen and Shane we need to worry about,” Ken concluded. “Brian probably won’t care what Lindsay thinks. He said he has the papers he needs to keep Gus; and she’ll hate him for that.”

“She’ll hate him because he won’t have any reason to finance her endeavors anymore,” Dave said. “She makes quite the show of caring for Gus, but the kid doesn’t respond as though he’s used to it.”

“Gus responds more readily to Brian, and even to Justin,” Ken observed. “That leaves Jen and Shane.”

“Shane promised to keep his mouth shut,” Judson said.

Ken shook his head. “He won’t. Something about Justin bugs him, and it’s not just the fact that Brian might get hurt.”

“Yes,” Dave nodded. “There’s a bit of personal history there. Any ideas, Judson?”

Judson shook his head. “None, I’m afraid. Whenever I see Brian with Shane, I think of my brothers. Deep love, deep understanding, with a bit of good-natured rivalry thrown in.”

“It’s not Brian and Shane. It’s Shane and Justin. Let’s keep our eyes open, Justin doesn’t strike me as somebody who takes too much shit,” Dave said.

Ken nodded. “From what Brian says, Justin has a bit of a temper. Fortunately, he doesn’t have a short fuse.”

“What about Jennifer,” Dave asked. “She should be happy for her son, shouldn’t she?”

“She’s in love with Brian,” Judson grinned. “A tiny little bit. Plus that wedding bash he threw for her and Tucker… she’s on Brian’s side, and she seems to think Justin is after Brian’s money.”

Ken grunted. “She ought to know better!”

“I agree,” Judson shrugged. “I have no idea what would make her think that.”

Tucker stood next to his seat. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course we don’t,” Judson said immediately. “Sit. Where’s the wife?”

“Off in a huff,” Tucker sighed, settling himself.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“More like, trouble with paradise,” Tucker sighed again. “I told her to keep her mouth shut about Brian and Justin. Once Brian has made up his mind, there’s nothing you can do anyway. And Justin is totally blissed-out… we shouldn’t spoil it for them.”

Judson nodded slowly. “I take it she didn’t like it.”

Tucker rolled his eyes. “She’s upset on your behalf, says they should know better than to flaunt it in front of you.”

“It’s not as if they can help themselves,” Judson laughed. “Besides, I think they’re damn cute.”

“Cute,” Dave grinned. “Don’t let Brian hear you say that.”

Judson shrugged. “What’s he gonna do, hold out on me?”

They all laughed.

 

Carrie sat in the grass, watching the horses. Frowning, she thought about Jennifer and her attitude. What had Justin done to tick her off like that? Just the wedding? What, she was disappointed because her boy didn’t give her his blessings? Did she need them? Had she been trying to tell Justin something? If so, what? Whatever it was, Brian was getting annoyed. She had seen that look on him before. Not long now, and Jennifer would be on the receiving end of a few choice words. 

Hearing voices, she craned her neck. Ah. Brian and the kids, JR on his arm and Gus clinging to his hand. Such a beautiful picture. Remembering Brian with Erin and Vic, she felt tears welling in her eyes. Quickly, she moved back a little to sit behind a bush. Right now, she didn’t want Brian to see her. He was too perceptive, would notice the strangely melancholic mood she was in. 

“Can I give them some more pony-nuts,” she heard Gus ask eagerly.

“Yes. Just four each though, we don’t them want to be ill, do we?” Brian set JR on the ground and gave Gus something. Carrie guessed those were the pony-nuts.

“I wanna feed horses,” JR sulked.

“No, JR,” Brian said firmly. “You’re too small. I don’t want you near the horses until you’re a bit older. But you can give some dried fish to Tail and Lady. Would you like that?”

“Gus feed cats?” JR looked at Brian expectantly, and Carrie grinned. It was obvious JR wanted the cats to herself. How was Brian going to get out of that one?

“Gus feeds the horses, you feed the cats. It’s only fair.”

JR beamed at Brian, and Gus pouted. Then he looked at JR, and his face cleared. “That is fair,” he conceded. 

Brian smiled. “I know admitting that wasn’t easy for you, because you love feeding the cats as well. I’m proud of you.”

Gus looked at his father adoringly. “I don’t want to be a shitty brother. I want to be fair, like you.”

Brian ruffled his hair. “I think you’re a great brother.”

JR put her arms around Gus. “Nice Gus!”

Gus grinned and hugged back. “Nice JR! Is this another mutual appreciation society, Daddy?”

“It sure is,” Brian laughed. “A society of two. Come on, JR, let’s go find the cats.”

Gus beamed. “I get to feed the horses all on my own?”

Brian nodded. “I can trust not to go into the field, right?”

“Yes, Daddy, you can trust me!” Gus nodded earnestly. “I promise I’ll be good!”

“And I know you always keep your promises,” Brian smiled. “Come and find us when you’re done!”

 

Carrie watched carefully, prepared to dash across the field should Gus climb the fence. But he stayed where he was, patiently distributing treats among the horses. Then he showed them his hands were empty. 

“Daddy says you mustn’t have any more,” Carrie heard. “You’ll get sick. You have to eat grass now. I sure wish I could eat grass!”

What a strange thing to say, Carrie thought, her eyes following the small figure across the yard to the stables.

 

“Heavens, JR, you can’t eat that, sweetheart!” Brian’s voice carried from the stables clear to where she was sitting. JR said something, but Carrie couldn’t make out her reply. 

Carrie jumped up, wondering what JR had done for Brian to sound so horrified. She grinned. Kids that age, they always put things in their mouths. She remembered Shane eating sand, and Erin trying to chew a pinecone. Shaking her head, she crossed the yard.

Brian came out of the building, carrying JR. His steps were energetic, driven. Seeing Gus, he hoisted him up and hurried toward the house. He hadn’t even seen her. What was he going to do, brush their teeth? Carrie grinned. Sometimes, the boy really was a bit too fussy.


	29. Twenty-Nine

Richard was in the living room, curled into his chair. The heat was getting to him, and Shane was irritating the hell out of him. Time to withdraw, time to cool off. At least Brian seemed to get his affairs in order. And he had promised to stick with the treatment Jim had suggested. That was a relief. A vast relief.

Ah. Brian. Talk of the devil. He knew those steps. Determined, quick. Some sort of minor emergency with the children?

“You sit by there, guys,” Brian instructed, tearing into some packaging. 

“Oreos!” JR sounded delighted. That girl was a little gourmand.

“You enjoy these,” Brian encouraged, opening a door. That sounded like the wine cooler? What now? 

Bottles clinked. Obviously the wine bottles, hurriedly set on the counter, two or three landing in the sink with a crash. Richard winced. He knew how much money Brian had spent on that wine.

The sound of more glass splintering, and Gus asking quietly, “But what did she do, Daddy?”

“She ate the dried fish. Cat food.”

Richard grinned. Cat food. Not so bad. Shane had once tried to eat a stick of wood on one of their walks, and another time, Erin had eaten half an envelope before he could stop her. Kids!

Wait. Brian didn’t sound horrified. Brian sounded… devastated?

“Is she going to be sick?” Gus seemed genuinely concerned.

Frowning, Richard shifted so that he could look into the kitchen.

The kids were sitting on the counter, the wine bottles helter-skelter on the draining board opposite. The room was already beginning to smell of the wine spilt. What was his boy doing?

Brian replied, “No, Gus. The cat food is always fresh and perfectly fine to eat.”

“But you’re really upset. Why, Daddy?”

Brian sighed deeply, taking the last bottles out of the cooler. “I’m upset because we have a house full of food, and now I find out that you guys are still going hungry.”

“That’s my fault,” Gus said in a small voice. “I didn’t think you’d find out.”

Brian stood, looking at Gus, his face utterly surprised. “Gus. How can that be your fault?”

“I told JR not to eat so much.”

“You did what? Gus! Why did you do that?”

Gus began to cry. Looking at him, JR’s eyes filled with tears as well.

“Now, now,” Brian put his arms around his kids. “Please don’t cry. It’s okay. We’ll figure this out together, shall we?”

Both children were sobbing, and Richard could see that Brian had tears in his eyes. What was going on?

“Come on, kids, you really have to stop crying,” Brian said; his cheer sounded forced to Richard. “You’ll flood the kitchen and we’ll all have to swim upstairs!”

JR sniffled, swallowed audibly and then giggled. “Funny! Dada is funny!”

Gus rubbed his eyes, clearly not as easily distracted.

“Gus. Come on, son. You can talk to me, can’t you,” Brian coaxed gently. 

“I’m a shitty brother. And a shitty son,” Gus blubbered.

“Here, Gus, blow your nose. You too, JR,” Brian handed out tissues and helped JR blow her nose and wipe her face. 

“Gus. Listen to me. Are you listening?” Brian managed to keep his voice even, but Richard heard the strain the children probably missed.

“I always listen, Daddy,” Gus sobbed.

“You are a great brother, and you are a wonderful son. I’m sure that whatever you did, you had good intentions.”

Gus sighed. “Mom Mel says you go to hell on good intentions.”

Brian sighed as well. “That’s a saying for grown-ups, Gus, not for children.”

“Mom Mel says you don’t believe in heaven and hell,” Gus tilted his head.

“I don’t,” Brian said evenly. “I only believe in things I can see, hear, feel or touch. But that’s not something we need to talk about right now, is it?”

Gus shook his head. “You want to talk about food, right?”

“Yes, I do,” Brian said. “So. Why aren’t you guys allowed to eat?”

Gus hesitated. “Because. Because it’s so hard in Toronto.”

Richard shook his head. Couldn’t Brian catch a break? Not another problem. Not now. And what was the problem, exactly?

“What happens in Toronto,” Brian wanted to know.

No reply. Maybe Gus was struggling for words?

Brian must’ve had that impression, because he said, “It’s got something to do with those fuzzy suckers, right, Gus? When Mum Lindsay goes grocery shopping, doesn’t she bring back things you like?”

Fuzzy suckers? What was Brian talking about? 

Gus took a deep breath. “´We don’t have any money, Daddy. Mom Mel is so angry that you are filthy rich because we’re not. She works and works, but there’s never any money to do fun things like having an ice-cream. She said we can’t have new shoes until fall. And we don’t have much money for food. That’s why JR has to make her suckers last.”

Even from across the room, Richard could see that Brian had blanched. Even his lips had gone gray. How could those ladies be short? Shane had mentioned that Brian was sending them plenty of money every month. More money than Shane thought reasonable, actually. What was it he had said? “Brian paid for the house and the car and Melanie’s tuition, he springs for school-fees and clothes. Michael never sends any money, but Lindsay keeps coming to him for more. The lesbos should bloody find work!”

Brian’s voice interrupted his train of thought.

“I see. Are you saying you don’t want to eat so much here because it’s so hard to go back to eating very little in Toronto?” 

Brian’s voice was carefully neutral, and Richard wondered at the effort it must have cost him.

Gus nodded. “Yes, Daddy. That’s it! Are you angry now?”

“I’m so angry, I don’t even have enough words for how I feel,” Brian’s voice had become rough. “I’m not angry with you, though. I think you tried to protect your little sister, and that’s a nice thing to do. Can you tell me why you didn’t tell me about the money before?”

Gus sighed gustily. “That’s the want-not I was talking about. Mum said I mustn’t tell you. You can’t tell her you know, please, Daddy!”

Brian picked the boy up, holding him close. “Hush, Gus. Look, I’ll talk to Mom Mel and we grown-ups take care of it, okay? Leave it all to me. You are a little young to worry about money, or anything else for that matter.”

Gus nodded reluctantly. “But what do we do now?”

“Now we do what I promised JR we’d do. I told her that you pair get your very own fridge. It has a lock, and you will have a key. I keep the other key to make sure the fridge is always full of things you like. So, now that the fridge is empty, what do you want me to put in there for you?”

“Clairs,” JR said immediately.

“E-clairs,” Brian corrected gently. “Can you try and say that, JR?”

JR tried, it sounded more like Icarus, but Brian seemed to think it was close enough. “Do you want an éclair now, JR?”

JR nodded happily. “Yes, yes, yes!” 

“Say thank you,” Gus prompted in a stage-whisper.

“Thank you,” JR echoed dutifully.

Brian grinned. “Well, son, do you want one, too?”

“Yes, thank you Daddy!” Gus beamed.

Shaking his head, Brian sat Gus next to JR and gave the kids their éclairs.

Richard grinned to himself when Brian piled some ten or twelve éclairs on a plate and put it in the fridge. “So, what else? Gus?”

“Bagels,” Gus decided. “And peanut butter! But that’s not a fridge, that’s your wine-cooler!”

“That’s right, Gus. It’s a fridge for wine. But there’s no law that says I have to keep wine in it. With the glass door, you can always see what there’s in there, and it’s the right height for JR.”

“But where will you keep your wine,” Gus asked.

“In the basement,” Brian said patiently. “There’s a big wine cooler in the basement I can use. Don’t worry about the stupid wine, Gus! Wine isn’t important, you kids are.”

Amused, Richard watched Brian fill the fridge for the children. Fruit, chocolate, cheese, juice, and cocoa – it all went in.

“Cornflakes,” JR said.

“They’ll be all soggy, Daddy,” Gus said. “Yuck!”

“Not yuck,” JR pouted. “Like cornflakes!”

Brian looked at what just had to be a sulky little face and shrugged. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. I get two bowls of cornflakes ready for you, and I’ll add some sugar ready. You’ll have to pour your own milk when you want to eat them, Gus. Can you do that for JR and for yourself?”

Gus nodded confidently. “Yes I can, Daddy.”

Richard shook his head. He got the impression that if JR had wanted a three-course meal, Brian would’ve found a way to refrigerate that for her, as well. Brian had been brilliant with Vic, and clearly, he hadn’t lost his touch.

“Is that it,” Brian finally asked. “Or do you want anything else?”

JR shook her head. “So much to eat! I’m happy, happy, happy! Thank you, Dada!”

Brian grinned. “If you’re happy, I’m happy, JR. Gus, what about you?”

“I’m happy too,” Gus said, taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Daddy!”

Brian locked the cooler and gave each of the children their own key. He produced a colorful ribbon from somewhere and tied it around JR’s wrist, attaching the key. “And before I forget, JR – here are a few things you can’t put in the fridge. You’ll also need spoons. I set them on this shelf right here, and you just help yourself whenever you want. All the packages are already open to make it easier for you. Okay?”

JR beamed. “Up!”

Brian picked her up. “Now what?”

“Kiss,” JR said, and promptly proceeded to smother a laughing Brian in kisses.

Richard grinned. That kid was all sticky with cream from the éclair, and finicky Brian didn’t even seem to notice.

“So happy,” JR announced. “Food all mine.”

“And mine,” Gus said immediately. “It’s ours, JR! We share!”

“Ours,” JR conceded. “Share. Down, Dada!”

Brian let her get down and watched with an indulgent smile. What was the girl doing?

“Don’t press your nose to the glass, it’ll get all mucky,” Gus complained. Ah yes. His father’s son, through and through. So, what? The kid was looking at the food in the fridge? How sad.

The girl must have reached for something, because Brian said, “Don’t be shy, JR. It is yours, just take what you want!”

Richard couldn’t see what it was, but JR had something in her hand as she ran from the kitchen, giggling.

“She’ll get really grubby now,” Gus sighed. “First all that cream, and now sticky peach!”

“Doesn’t matter for once,” Brian shrugged. “Clothes can be washed, and she can go in the shower. At least she’s happy.”

“You’re sticky from where she kissed you,” Gus pointed. “There, and there!”

“Yuck,” Brian grinned and wet a kitchen towel to wipe his face and hands. “There, better?”

“Much,” Gus was satisfied. “Can I wipe my hands, too? I didn’t even wash my hands. I touched the horses and fed them pony-nuts before having those Oreos, and the éclair!””

“Doesn’t matter for once. I forgot, too. Just remember next time,” Brian said and helped Gus clean his face and hands. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Can I ask you something?”

“You can always ask me anything, you know that. Go ahead, ask.”

“Why are you mad at Mum Lindsay, but not at Mom Mel?”

“Because I know your mothers, son,” Brian sighed. “Mom Mel, she’d stop eating altogether so you guys get enough to eat. But she doesn’t know that you go hungry, does she? Mum Lindsay, she’s an alcoholic. She only cares about getting her next drink.”

“That’s like Ted, right? If you take drugs, you don’t care about anything else, is that right?”

“That’s exactly right. Well done for figuring it out, Gus!”

A pause, Brian watching his son’s face with an indulgent smile. After a while, he said, “I can see the wheels turning, Gus. You have a question you think I won’t like. I won’t get mad at you for asking questions, not ever. You learn by asking. So go on.”

“Okay then, Daddy. I know you take drugs. So does Vic. Shane, sometimes. Does Jim?”

Shane, huh? The things you found out… then again, he was eavesdropping, wasn’t he? Richard suppressed a sigh. How was he going to get out of this? Well, maybe Brian would take that wine into the basement. Then he’d be able to leave unseen and go think about what he had just learned.

“No, Jim doesn’t,” Brian said. “But yes, the others do. So?” 

“But you care. I know you do. And Vic and Shane, too.”

“Ah, I see. Ted and your mum, they need their drugs. The rest of us, we do drugs sometimes because they can be fun when you’re an adult. I don’t need them, though. If somebody told me I had to stay away from drugs immediately, I could. No problem. But Ted – he was in rehab twice already, and he still can’t kick the habit. Ted had Blake, friends, a good job and a decent life. He just didn’t realize it. There’s something in his head, or maybe in his heart, that tells him his life is only wonderful if he takes Crystal Meth.”

“And your life?”

Brian smiled, a bright, happy smile. “I’ve got you. JR. Vic. Richard and Carrie. I’ve got Shane, Judson, Jim and my other friends. I’ve got Justin, and I love my job. My life is great!”

“Is that why you don’t need the drugs?”

“I don’t want to need, Gus. If you need something, you can’t do without. What if you lost that which you need? I want to be able to live without ever needing anything. That way, if I ever lose something, I will be sorry – but I’ll be able to keep going. People like Ted, they can’t do that.”

“Do you need Justin?”

“No. I want him. I want Justin a lot, because I’m just miserable without him. But I haven’t had him for a year, and I was still able to live my life, and live it well.”

Gus nodded. “So if he leaves again, will you be okay?”

“I’ll be sad, very sad. But yes, in the end, I’ll be just fine. Like I was before.”

“That’s good,” Gus took a deep breath. “Because Jennifer thinks Justin will leave you again, and she thinks it would kill you.”

Brian bit his lip; and Richard shook his head. What was the matter with the woman? She should know by now that Gus repeated everything he heard to his father. If she had to say these things, couldn’t she at least not say them around the kids?

“It will hurt me if he leaves. But no, it will not kill me. I have plenty to live for.”

Richard hoped fervently that Brian was telling Gus the truth, and not lying through his teeth.

“That’s good,” Gus sighed contentedly. 

“Any other questions, son?”

“No, Daddy. I’m fine.”

“Right. In that case, I need you to promise me something.”

Gus nodded readily. “I promise. What?”

“About that fridge. I don’t think JR can turn the key in the lock just yet.”

“She can’t,” Gus said. “In Toronto, we don’t have any keys in the doors, because Mom Mel thinks she might lock herself in and won’t be able to get back out.”

“I noticed that,” Brian nodded. “So. About that promise. You see, I know about the doll, the teddy bear, the crayons and the ball, right? Will you promise that when JR asks for something to eat, you will give it to her, no matter how angry you are?”

Gus hung his head. “You know about all that?”

Brian grinned. “You’re my son. It’s my job to know. Listen, Gus. JR, she doesn’t mean to tick you off, she just wants to play. She doesn’t understand yet that there are things she mustn’t touch. I realize that when she spoils your drawing or breaks your toy, you want to get back at her.”

“I’m mean, right?” Gus sighed heavily.

“Actually, no, you’re not. You’re still a child yourself, and you don’t have any way of dealing with your anger. If you were a grown-up, hopefully you could discuss the problem. Not yet, though. So, you hide her toys. If you were mean, you’d never give them back – but you do, as soon as you realize she’s about to cry. If you were mean, you’d hit her when nobody is looking. But I know you don’t.”

“You don’t hit girls,” Gus said. “Not even your sister. You taught me that, and Vic and Shane say so too.”

Brian nodded. “See, that’s my boy. So, will you promise to feed her, even if she’s driving you up the wall?”

Gus thought for a moment. “Yes. I promise. Even if I’m really mad at her. But what if we’re about to have dinner? Am I supposed to give her chocolate just before dinner?”

Brian gently cupped the boy’s chin. “Yes. Because she’s only three. Even if dinner is only five minutes away, that’s a really long time to wait when you’re that little.”

“Mom Mel will get mad. I could play with her until dinner, then she might wait,” Gus mused.

“No, Gus. Don’t do that. I’ll deal with Mom Mel. When you’re a kid, you’re hungry NOW, not in five minutes. Don’t make her wait, and don’t make yourself wait. Being hungry hurts, right here, doesn’t it?” Brian put his hand against the boy’s stomach, just under the ribcage.

Gus nodded. “That’s right, Daddy, that’s where it hurts.”

“I know. It’s like a tight little knot in the pit of your stomach. You don’t have to feel that way. I don’t want you to feel like that, not ever. I don’t want JR to feel like that. And I will sort something out for Toronto, so don’t worry anymore, okay?”

Gus nodded again, heaving a deep sigh. “I always feel better after I talked to you. I should have talked to you before.”

Brian grinned. “You remember that, son – if you feel bad, talking to me makes it all better.”

Gus grinned back. “Up!”

“Oh dear. I thought you had learned to speak in whole sentences,” Brian laughed, but swept the boy up.

Gus put his arms around Brian’s neck, squeezing so tightly that Richard could see the little boy’s muscles move. Damn, that kid had skinny arms. He hadn’t really taken notice of that before, but now that he knew, he could see the kids were on the verge of malnourishment. How had Brian missed that on his frequent trips to Toronto?

“Love you Daddy!”

“Love you, son,” Brian said seriously.

“I do promise. If JR is hungry, I’ll give her what she wants even if I’m really mad at her. And I’ll eat, too.”

Brian took a deep breath. “Thank you, Gus. That’s a big relief. Now, why don’t you let me clean up this mess and you go and find JR?” 

“I’ll do that,” Gus said happily. “Thank you Daddy! Vic said you always make everything okay, and he was right!”

Brian watched Gus skip away, his eyes visibly damp and his mouth a grim line.

Richard pressed a hand to his mouth, reining in his reaction.


	30. Thirty

Molly came into the kitchen, took one look at Brian’s face and said, “I’ll hop off again, shall I?”

Brian smiled at her, a tight little smile that never reached his eyes. “No, it’s okay. What did you want?”

“Some ice, we’ve run out outside,” Molly said.

“Next time, tell Andrea,” Brian suggested, pouring ice from the ice-maker into a clean container.

“Andrea’s distributing fresh towels and changing the sheets for everybody,” Molly said. “Didn’t think it was fair asking her. It’s not like it’s hard work, getting some ice. And now you’re helping me!”

Brian handed her the full bowl, “Here you go, sweetheart.”

Molly hugged the container, studying Brian’s face. “Should I send in Justin?”

Brian took a deep breath. “Not Justin, no. But if you see Mel, could you tell her I need a word?”

“Sure,” Molly said, gesturing at the sink. “You want some help cleaning up? I can come back. I’m good at cleaning sinks, ask mum!”

Brian smiled, a real smile this time. “Thanks, but no thanks, I’ve got it. You’re supposed to be on vacation!”

“So are you, but they just won’t let you relax,” Molly replied gently. “I’d like to do something for you. Is there anything I can do?”

“There is, actually. Can you please not give Justin a hard time while I’m away?”

Molly laughed. “He’s my brother! I’m going to give him a hard time alright! But at the same time, I’m actually a pretty awesome sister. If he wants to come cry on my shoulder, he can. If he wants to hang out, I’m game. Only, I spent the last year hoping that he’d see I’m growing up, that I’m actually a human being he can have a reasonably decent conversation with. Instead, he just stopped talking to me altogether.” She sighed.

Brian pulled his lips into his mouth for a moment, then said, “Talk to Justin about the emails Hunter brought with him.”

“We’ve all been pestering Hunter about those, but he says that it’s up to you to discuss them.” Another gusty sigh. “I feel like everybody’s kid sister around here.”

Brian snorted. “I get first dibs, I saw you first.”

“I’m okay with that,” Molly grinned. “You make a great dad, and I’m sure you’re one hell of a big brother!”

“Thanks, Molly. I’m glad somebody other than just the kids thinks so,” Brian smiled widely.

“Hello? We have founded the Brian Kinney appreciation society around here! We all think you’re fantastic, in case you really didn’t know. Don’t let idiots like Mike or Ted convince you otherwise, they don’t know shit.”

Brian took a deep breath. “I should’ve kicked them out before.”

Molly tilted her head. “Why didn’t you? I must admit, you don’t strike me as all that patient.”

Brian laughed, a startled little sound. Richard grinned to himself.

“Don’t you make the same mistake,” Brian advised gently. “Don’t hold on to people just because you think you should. Keep the ones that are worth it. Get rid of the bad apples now, so that you can start college with a clean slate.”

“Sound advice,” Molly sighed. “How do you know the bad apples though?”

Brian winked at her. “Look at what you get in return for your kindness. If you copy three CDs for somebody, and their response is ‘I asked for these last week, what took you so long’ instead of ‘wow thank you’, it might be an idea to ditch them.”

Molly laughed. “Oh heck, you heard that? I thought she was a bit bold.”

“Impertinent, more like,” Brian replied. “Sorry, but the window was open and you were right outside.”

Molly shrugged. “I wasn’t too worried about anybody overhearing. Any tips on how to get rid of her without causing too much bad blood? I don’t want a huge fight on my hands.”

“Tell her that it might be an idea to give the friendship a rest while you’re at college because you’ll both be swamped and that way, there won’t be hard feelings when one of you doesn’t manage to stay in touch. Should she come back after you graduated, you can take stock and decide whether she’s worth having back,” Brian suggested.

Molly sat down the ice and enveloped Brian in a bear-hug. “That’s it; you’re officially adopted as my big brother. Thank you for your help, and sorry to bother you with my stupid shit when you have other things on your mind!”

Brian hugged back, smiling. “Not stupid, and that’s what big brothers are for, kiddo. Anytime!”

Molly tipped her head back, returning the smile. “Unlike all the other folks who say that, you actually mean it.”

She cleared her throat and took a step back. “Right. I’ll go find Mel for you. And then I’ll talk to Justin.”

She turned to go, but Brian sniggered. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Molly turned, her face puzzled. “I did say thank you.”

Brian laughed. “Not what I meant. The ice?”

“Argh. Sorry, senior moment there,” Molly shook her head, grabbing the bowl.

“Don’t say that, Molly. Most seniors that I know don’t have those moments. It’s more kids your age who are a little scatterbrained.”

Molly nodded. “And that’s my boss telling me to think before I speak. I hear you.”

Richard shook his head and decided that he had a few things he wanted to say to Brian. At least the girl was grateful for his advice, unlike some other people!

Brian heaved a sigh, watching her go. He went into the library, so preoccupied he never even saw Richard; and he returned with a two sheets of paper which he slipped into a drawer in the kitchen. Then he started to put the bottles into a basket, presumably to take down into the basement later. He filled the dispenser with fresh water and was about to start cleaning the sink when Melanie walked in.

 

“Brian. Molly says you were looking for me,” she said, studying Brian’s rigid back.

“Sit,” Brian said calmly, turning very deliberately and indicating the breakfast bar. He slid something to her. “Try that.”

Melanie picked it up, examining it with a frown. “Doesn’t look very nice. What is it?”

“Eat. It.” Brian ground out the words, his voice harsh.

Melanie frowned again, looked at his face and clearly saw something that warned her. She heaved a put-upon sigh, but broke off a small piece and put it in her mouth. She chewed once, twice, then coughed, produced a tissue and spit into it. “Heavens, Brian. That’s disgusting! It’s all dusty, and dry. It tastes fishy. Just awful. What is it?”

Brian put a glass of water in front of her. “Cat food. Dried fish, to be precise.”

“Lovely,” Melanie muttered, taking a large gulp. “Even your most fabulous campaign won’t sell that!”

“I’m not running a campaign for it,” Brian took a deep breath, and Richard had the impression he was only just able to control his flaring temper. 

“Why did you give it to me,” Melanie shook her head. “That’s not even a prank. It’s just gross!”

“Figured you’d like to know what your daughter has been eating a couple of times a day since you got here,” Brian said, his eyes flashing.

Melanie tilted her head. “What? Why? She can’t possibly like that stuff?”

“No. She doesn’t. She thinks it’s ‘all yucky’. But she was hungry.”

“How can she be hungry? You’re feeding us up like anything, I already gained two pounds!”

“Really,” Brian said, his voice tight. “I think I’ll be asking for a pound of flesh from somebody pretty damn soon!”

Melanie took a deep breath. “Brian. What gives? What’s going on?”

“I was rather hoping you could tell me, but you’re clueless, aren’t you?”

“Thanks. I guess I am,” Melanie muttered bitterly. “So, what?”

Brian sighed. “Gus says you have no money. No money for food, or clothes, and certainly not for outings with the kids. How come?”

Melanie brushed a hand across her eyes. “Damn. This is so embarrassing.”

“Talk to me, Mel,” Brian demanded sternly.

“I guess I have to, now,” Melanie nodded to herself. “Right. When we went to Toronto, I thought it was a matter of sitting an exam or two, and then taking the bar. Turns out, I need to take several exams to continue playing in my field, and there are usually only four opportunities per year to take them. I had just missed one, and was too late to register for the next. I sat one exam and failed. So, I’m going to law school preparing for said exams. I do my prepping in the afternoon, and in the evening, I’m bussing at a diner. I’m waiting tables on the weekends.”

She took a deep breath. “Save it. You don’t have to tell me, I know. About a week after we got there, I became aware that it wasn’t our best idea to relocate to Canada. It was harebrained, and we hadn’t thought things through. We should’ve gone to Frisco, or something.”

“Where’s Lindsay working,” Brian asked.

“I’m better qualified,” Melanie shrugged. “She’s had interviews, but there isn’t much chance of getting a job as arts teacher.”

“So you’re better qualified to be a server, law degree and all,” Brian scoffed. “What does Lindsay do all day, when you and the kids are in school?”

“Well,” Melanie hesitated.

Brian frowned. “Right. I get it. It’s such hard work looking after two kids. Cleaning the house. Getting your meals ready. She needs to sleep late, right?”

Melanie shrugged, probably thinking it might be safer to keep her mouth shut.

“So. You earn the dough, she spends it?”

Melanie shrugged again. “When we had Gus we decided she should be the one to stay at home.”

Brian snorted. “Ding, ding! Time to face facts, Melanie!”

“Meaning what,” Melanie asked hesitantly.

“I need some other information first. You’re struggling to make ends meet. What exactly are you paying for?”

Melanie took a deep breath. “I wish I could say that’s none of your business. But I know you gave us some money for taking Gus to the dentist, so… oh, what the heck. Look, I told Linds not to ask you for cash. Michael hasn’t given me any in months, so I didn’t think it was fair you should always have to pay. You’re already covering mortgage and groceries. I pay for instalments on the car. The gardener. My tuition, school for Gus, pre-kindergarten for JR… and all the other household stuff. We had some money put aside, but that’s gone already and I’m not going to touch the college funds.”

“Mel. You’re working your ass off, and yet JR was wearing shoes that were two sizes too small. That god-awful cheap dress barely covered her underwear!”

“They grow so fast,” Melanie defended herself weakly.

Brian slammed his hand on the surface so hard that bits of dried fish jumped all over the kitchen. “You stupid, stupid cow!”

Mel stared at him, mouth open and expression stunned.

Brian took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm down. In a low, dangerous voice he said, “When we had my boy, we were agreed that he was going to have the best upbringing possible. At the very least, we were going to make sure that he always had enough to eat, that he’d get to wear decent clothes and that he never ever would have to doubt anything we say. You both promised me faithfully, you swore on the goddam Bible and on the fucking Torah respectively! I thought your holy books meant something to you bitches. Yet, you failed me, both of you. I knew Lindsay would, she’s never had any staying power. But I’m disappointed in you, I expected you to pick up the ball when Lindsay dropped it.”

Melanie wiped at her eyes. “Look, it’s only temporary. They’re kids, they’ll forget.”

Brian stared at her, his expression incredulous. When he spoke, his voice was icy and flat. “They will not forget. Won’t be able to. Ever. Even as adults, they will get up in the middle of the night to check there’s food in the fridge. They won’t want to eat, because once you ate it, it’s gone. They will stare at themselves in the mirror a dozen times a day, just to make sure their clothes do fit. They will look at people and wonder whether they’re being betrayed, they will never trust anybody completely, they will always expect the other person to lie, so they won’t allow anybody close.”

Actions he had witnessed. Brian opening the fridge, looking inside and closing the door again. Brian’s checking himself in the mirror, again and again. Brian watching your eyes, studying your face, observing and cataloguing. Things fell into place with all the violence of a bomb dropping on a house. Realization left a crater in Richard’s heart, and debris in his mind.

Melanie was sobbing quietly. “I swear, I didn’t know things were this bad!”

“Don’t swear,” Brian said coldly. “You were desperate to maintain that doomed relationship, and you still are. You didn’t want to see what’s going on with the kids, because your fucking marriage means more to you than our children do!”

“I love Lindsay,” Melanie said in a small voice.

“What’s to love? Does she love you? I don’t think so. She loves the next bottle of Jack Daniels far more than she loves you, or the children.”

“Now you’re being mean,” Melanie whispered. “She’ll stop drinking when things get better.”

“We’ve been fucked over, you and I,” Brian interrupted. “I hadn’t intended to tell you, because I know you’ve got pride.”

Melanie looked up anxiously, and Brian took a deep breath. “The house you’re in, it’s joint property. Gus and JR are the holders. I bought the car; it’s in your name. I took out private health insurance for all of you. I put money in the bank for the gardener, school, clothes, your tuition – the whole kit and caboodle. And I’m forking over 1,000 bucks a month, plus whatever else Lindsay asks for.”

Silence. 

Richard raised his brows. Just how much money was the boy making? Remembering the Lamborghini, he grasped that clearly, Brian was making more than enough. He sighed a little. Brian was working long hours, more than he himself ever had. Way more than Shane was prepared to put in. Now Richard wondered whether that was because Brian felt his obligations too keenly. After all, he had also supported the Lost Boys and their mothers whenever necessary. 

“Did Lindsay ask for money for plane tickets, and did you give it to her,” Melanie asked, her voice sounding dry.

“Yes. Of course, I paid, I didn’t want you driving all the way with the kids. Did you ever check the books, Mel? You used to. Why would you let Lindsay run the show now? Too tired to get involved? Face it, you’ve been manipulated. So have I.” 

Melanie nodded. “I’m sorry. Actually, more than sorry. I don’t even have the words…“ She broke off, crying again.

Brian sighed. “Let’s not get upset. Let’s get even.”

Melanie rubbed her eyes, sobbing. 

Brian rolled his eyes and wet a kitchen towel. “Mel. Here, wipe your eyes. We’ll sort it.”

Mel reached out, took the towel and ran it over her face and hands. She blew her nose and slipped from the chair to toss the tissue in the trash.

She turned and looked up at Brian. “I don’t really know where we went wrong. You’re a decent guy. I do apologize.”

Brian smirked. “You needed a scapegoat. So easy to blame me for everything that went wrong.”

Melanie rubbed her forehead. “Fuck. You’re right. That’s exactly what it was. It’s not even that I dislike you, because I don’t. But…”

“But it was easier to think that I had put ideas in Lindsay’s head, rather than acknowledge the fact that she’s just not so nice.”

“You warned me. You said she was just playing at being a lesbian.”

“And you thought I wanted her to myself.”

“I did. Why did you sleep with her?”

Brian sighed. “Really? That still bugs you? I was drunk, I was horny, and she was available.”

Melanie snorted, and then laughed. “You really are honest to a fault. Fuck you!”

“You ask the wrong questions, Mel. You always have. In my opinion, you’d be a first-rate lawyer if only you asked the right questions.”

Melanie nodded. “Thanks for that. What’s the right question?”

“Why did Lindsay do it with me?”

“She was drunk, ruttish, and you are hot?” Melanie shrugged.

“Not even close. Think again.”

Melanie put her head to the side. “I don’t get it.”

“No. You don’t. She wanted my baby, convinced I’d marry her and play house.”

Melanie drew a sharp breath. “What are you saying?”

“What you don’t want to hear. Lindsay decided she was a lesbian because she knew I had no inclination to hang with a straight WASP for any length of time. Also, it fit her view of the world. It was très chic and part of the bohemian-cool appeal. And now she figures her life is ruined. Hence the booze.”

“She’s not leaving me,” Melanie said, her voice shaking.

“No. You’re leaving her.”

Melanie shook her head, her voice adamant. “Not happening, Brian. She just needs time, we’ll sort it, you’ll see. I need to do more to support her.”

“You stay with Lindsay, you lose the children. Your choice,” Brian said indifferently.

“What! You asshole! And I was stupid enough…”

“Shut it, Mel,” Brian snarled. “If you think for one second that I will let my son grow up in that kind of environment, you’d better think again.”

“But…”

“No buts. No ifs. No more empty promises. It’s either Lindsay or the kids. Make up your mind.”

“What, right now?” Melanie sounded incredulous.

“Yes, Mel. Right now. Because my lawyer is drawing up the papers to keep both children away from Lindsay as we speak. You want to keep her, I keep the kids.”

“Brian. They love Lindsay, they’d miss her…” Melanie sounded desperate.

“They don’t love her. They’re unresponsive now, and soon, they’ll begin to hate her. Look, Mel, I don’t normally talk about it. My mother is an old soak. The bottle was always more important than the family. She started with verbal abuse when there was no alcohol within reach, and then she graduated to physical abuse. Lindsay already started on the verbal, I’m not prepared to give her a chance to do worse.”

Melanie paled, and pressed her palm to her mouth, eyes wide. “Maybe if she went into a clinic for rehab…”

Brian laughed, it sounded bitter. “You’re shitting me, right? Take a good long look at Ted. Lindsay is the same; her life is only worth it if she has some drug in her system. She’s been drinking more than was good for her before. If you were important to her, in any way, she’d not treat you like that. Think Melanie! What does it take to let a child go hungry?” 

Melanie leaned against the counter, crying her eyes out. Brian looked at her, impatient at first, then with growing compassion.

“You’re terrified, aren’t you? You think you’ll have to cope with everything on your own. Do you think I’d let you do that? I’ll help, Mel. You’re not alone.”

No reply, Melanie just kept crying. 

Brian left her to it for a while, and then said, “I need a decision, Melanie. Lindsay or the children?”

“If you had the kids, how would you cope,” Melanie asked.

Brian shrugged. “School in the mornings, then day-care at Kinnetik. I’d have to knock off early so we could spend time together in the afternoon; I can get some work done when the kids are in bed.”

“You’ve thought about it,” Melanie seemed surprised.

“Of course I have,” Brian said angrily. “I’ll hire an educator so they have a female attachment figure because the shrinks seem to think that’s important; she can also look after them when I have to travel.”

“What about Justin?”

“What about Justin? The kids are my responsibility, but he’s fine with whatever I decide.”

Melanie stared at him. “You really think I’ll choose Lindsay over my children?”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” Brian shrugged. “And they’re our children. Not that I’m picky or anything.”

Melanie wiped her eyes. “Damn. I hate you. I admire you, I respect you, but right now, I really really hate you.”

Brian took a step back, crossing his arms. “Let’s be clear, Melanie. I want you to be okay, I’d like for you to enjoy life. But if it’s a case of you or the kids, the children win. Every bloody fucking damn time. I don’t give a flying fuck whether you hate me, or love me, or are indifferent.”

“So you’re forcing me to leave Lindsay. I’m married to her, Brian! For better or worse, remember?”

“Yeah well. I never believed in that sort of shit,” Brian shrugged. “I’m forcing you to make a decision for the children’s sake.”

Melanie bit her lip, studying the floor. She was frowning, and Richard wondered whether the decision was really so difficult for her.

Brian looked at Melanie for a while, then rolled his eyes. “They’re not talking to you now, but they might actually be prepared to get a bit involved in their granddaughter’s life with the WASP out of the picture and you back in the US of A.”

Melanie lifted her head, staring a Brian. “Stay out of my head, you jerk!”

“Defensive, much?” Brian grinned.

“How did you know I was thinking about my parents?”

“Who else would you consider? You’re still the dutiful daughter who’d like to do what’s expected of her.”

“Brian. Surely you see that I can’t just…”

Brian grabbed her arms and shook her. “Melanie Marcus, you listen to me! An alcoholic is a danger to her children, I should know. I want both the kids out of her reach, and I’ll do whatever it takes. You don’t love Lindsay; you love the person she used to be. She will never be the same again!”

Melanie shook her head. “I’m not you. I can’t just hang Lindsay out to dry.”

Brian pulled his lips into his mouth, opening a drawer with an impatient gesture. “Here. Lindsay. You love her, right?”

Melanie looked at the paper Brian held out. Richard thought it looked like a pencil drawing.

Melanie smiled softly. “Yes. That’s my Lindsay.”

Brian snorted. “That’s what you see. Here, that’s what I see. What everybody sees who’s not wearing rose-tinted glasses.”

A charcoal drawing. Richard bit his lip. He recognized Brian’s uncompromising style even from this angle.

Melanie stared, looked up at Brian and then back at the picture. She took it from him, her hands shaking. Turning more into the light from the kitchen window, she studied the drawing intently.

Finally, she gave it back to Brian. “That’s downright cruel. Who did that?”

Brian shrugged. “A realist.”

“I didn’t know you were this good an artist,” Melanie said resignedly. “Please don’t let the children see that, not ever.”

“As if I would,” Brian shot back, his voice harsh.

“I was so happy when we got back together after Sam,” Melanie sighed. “Was I fooling myself all this time?”

“Most of the time,” Brian sighed as well.

“I can’t do this in Toronto, Brian,” Melanie said in a small voice. “But I don’t have any money to relocate, I don’t have money for a divorce lawyer… and even if I come back to Pittsburgh, I don’t have anywhere to go. I don’t have a job and it’ll take me a while to find something.”

“I told you, I’ll help. I’m not going to let you starve, Mel. Jennifer has a few houses you can look at next week. Until you find something you like, you stay here. I already spoke to Justin and Andrea, it’s all sorted. Richard has some suggestions where work is concerned, a few firms are hiring.”

Melanie shook her head. “You knew, didn’t you?”

Brian grinned. “Mel. Let’s face it: you’re the proverbial Yiddishe Mama.”

Mel hit him on the arm. “Don’t you dare call me that!”

“Daring me is so not a good idea, Mel,” Brian smirked.

“Oh! You!” Melanie sighed. “I need a friend.”

Brian tilted his head, his face expressionless.

Melanie grinned. “A female friend. You are a great friend, but you’re a guy, and right now, I need a woman to talk this over with.”

Just at that moment, Leda came in, making for the stairs.

“Well,” Brian said, “Speak of the devil. Got a moment, Leeds?”

“Evil ex, not devil. The devil is definitely male,” Leda grinned, stepping into the kitchen. “What?”

“Mel here needs a friend.”

Leda shrugged, “And you’re what, minced meat?”

“Apparently, I have the wrong equipment. She wants a female friend,” Brian said.

Leda grinned. “Nothing wrong with your equipment, gorgeous. Can we borrow the library?”

“Feel free,” Brian grabbed a bottle from the basket, and two glasses. “Here, temperature is still good to go.”

Leda looked at the label. “Wow. I’d drink that at room temperature.”

Brian shook himself. “Vade retro, Satanas! That’s disgusting!”

“Still lacking the equipment,” Leda smirked. “Right, later. I got a friend to get drunk.”

“On one bottle? Good luck with that,” Brian snorted. He held out a second bottle, but the women waved it away. Brian shrugged and put it back into the basket.

Leda and Melanie walked right past Richard, but they were focused on one another and didn’t notice him.

Richard took a deep breath. He really needed to get away from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vade retro, Satanas - (Latin) Go away, Satan


	31. Thirty-One

Molly put the ice in its place, and then looked around to find Justin. He was sitting in the shade all by himself, quite obviously lost in thought. She hesitated briefly, but then decided to go to him.

“Justin?”

Justin looked up, smiling. “Hiya, Mollusk!”

“Got some time to talk,” Molly asked, ignoring the old nickname. She was a bit annoyed, though – almost a year of silence, and now Justin waltzed back into the Burgh and thought he could pick up where he had left off?

Justin sighed. “Yeah, sure.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Look, if I’m disturbing deep thoughts, just say so. It’ll keep.”

“No, my deep thoughts are going in circles anyway. I was sighing because I can sense I’m about to get another earful,” Justin grinned ruefully.

“Right,” Molly said uncertainly. “I actually just want to talk.”

“Sure,” Justin said readily. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a shit about it. You want to go somewhere else?”

Molly looked around. “No. This is fine, it’s pretty private. Who’s given you an earful?”

Justin grimaced. “Mother dearest.”

“Don’t, Justin. You didn’t come to the damn wedding, what do you expect from her? She was so disappointed!”

Justin shrugged.

“Come on! She said in the invitation that Tucker would pick you up, it can’t have been because you had no money,” Molly shook her head. “I know you don’t like Tucker for whatever reason, but he’s actually nice. You should give him a chance; he’s a damn sight better than Craig!”

Justin shrugged again, and Molly studied him intently for a long moment. “Are you always this sullen? I don’t remember you being like this.”

“I’m not sullen. Will you promise not to tell?”

Molly snorted. “What are we, twenty going on five?! I won’t breathe a word. I’m not in the habit of repeating private conversations.”

Not anymore, anyway. She recalled Brian’s reaction when she had mentioned something they had discussed to a fellow employee. She had thought it was harmless, but Brian had had something to say. He had been nice about it, but quite adamant. Not a mistake she cared to repeat!

“How old are you, exactly? I don’t remember you being all grown-up,” Justin grinned.

“I’m only six years younger than you,” Molly frowned. “I’d love for you to remember that.”

“Uh, touchy!”

“You know what? Forget it. I thought we could have a normal conversation, but clearly, you’re still an immature idiot,” Molly got up, disappointed.

“Shit,” Justin grabbed her arm. “I’m sorry, Molly. We’re too much alike, I think. We rub each other the wrong way. Please stay.”

“What makes you think we’re alike? We’re not,” Molly scowled.

“We are. Look, I had a conversation with Brian yesterday. When he said something that ticked me off, I wanted to get away. Like you did, just now. I was only teasing you. I do know what it’s like when everybody thinks you’re just a kid. I got that from Brian’s old gang all the time.”

Molly thought for a moment, then sat back in the grass. “So. I’m not going to tell. Why didn’t you show up?”

Justin ducked his head. “She got the wedding that I didn’t get.”

Oh. He really was an idiot. Molly sighed. “Seriously?”

“Mum’s stupid invitation. She said Brian had told her to use our plans, he wasn’t going to need them anymore and they were pretty much finalized, she only needed to update them. And then she marries a guy who’s twelve years younger than she is. It felt like she was slapping me!”

“Touchy, much?” Molly couldn’t resist the jibe.

Justin grinned. “Right. I deserved that one. Can we call it quits while we’re ahead?”

“Sure. But Justin, that’s such a lame explanation. It wasn’t about you, not one iota of it. She does love Tucker, and he’s nuts about her. Did you tell mum?”

“No! That’s why I’m asking you not to tell anybody. I know I’m lame. Look, at the time I was feeling lousy. I was missing Brian like anything, and then I got her invitation with that stupid note inside – and it felt like Brian had dumped me all over again. I just didn’t want to see my mother all spruced up and happy when it should’ve been me. And before you say it, I know that’s really petty.”

Molly swallowed her first reply (that he had dumped Brian, not the other way around), and her second (that it was his fault he didn’t get the wedding, not their mother’s). After all, Brian had just told her – again! – to think before she spoke. His advice was always solid, best to heed it.

“I get that you were miserable,” she said, slowly feeling her way. “Jealous, too. I get you didn’t want to see what it could’ve been like for you. But didn’t you think of mum at all? You didn’t even let her know you couldn’t make it. It seemed like you were supporting Craig. She was hurt.”

Justin buried his face in his hands. “Fuck! I never even thought of bloody Craig!”

You didn’t think, Molly wanted to say. She kept that thought to herself, too. Did Brian feel like that? That you couldn’t voice your opinion because people would take everything the wrong way? It took a lot of effort, but maybe it got easier if you had some practice? She was beginning to feel that Brian’s glib quips were laying a smoke-screen, which bought him time to think.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost missed Justin’s next words, especially as he had lowered his voice.

“I wish I could turn back time, you know.”

Molly rolled her eyes. Oh really! Why did people always think that turning back time would make everything alright? Craig had told her he wanted to turn back time so they could all be a family again, but she had replied that he’d still be the same person and would therefore make the same mistakes. (She had not said that Justin was still going to be gay, so nothing would change unless Craig somehow stopped being a homophobe.) She had yet to tell her mother that Craig had kicked her out after that. Craig was still making the same mistakes now, some seven years later. How would Justin react if she said it to him?

“You’d be the same person you were then. You’d end up making the same mistakes.”

Justin raised his head sharply, as if startled. “Damn. That’s actually true, you know.”

Well, one up on Craig. 

Molly shrugged. “You made a lot of mistakes. I can almost understand that you didn’t want to be in touch with mum, because she totally didn’t get your sudden urge to go to NY. But why did you stop writing to Daphne, and to me? And Brian! Brian, of all people!”

Justin shook his head. “I didn’t stop writing. Those emails Hunter brought? Michael diverted my mail, and the mail I received.”

Molly stared. That was what Hunter’s doom and gloom appearance had been all about yesterday? Impossible, surely! Nobody would do that, would they? How utterly despicable! It explained a lot, though.

“Are you going to tell people? They need to know! They have a right to know. Especially Daphne!”

“I already tried to tell mum, but she thinks I’m lying. I’m not, you know. But now I’m worried everybody will think that.”

“Of course you’re not lying, and nobody will think you are. I don’t know what’s up with mum. Maybe she feels like you felt about her wedding – you and Brian, you’re shining with happiness. Maybe she thinks you’re sort of stealing her show. But Hunter had everything printed out; we’ve all seen the big bunch of papers. You could’ve shown her.”

Justin shrugged, his face a little bitter. “I always thought kids got to be petty, but mothers didn’t. She didn’t want to know. Much easier to accuse me of being a lying little piece of shit.”

“Mothers are people, in case that had escaped your attention! Why isn’t she allowed to be simply a person, rather than a mother? We don’t really need her as ‘mother' anymore, so why can’t we all be adults and get along? Do you actually want to have a good relationship with mum and Tucker?”

Justin sighed. “Brian will have something to say if I don’t try. He likes Tucker a lot, and he likes mum for whatever strange and wonderful reason.”

Molly grimaced. “He’ll also have something to say if you get all snotty. Look, I’ve been with them for the last year and you haven’t, so let me explain. You went to NY, Craig tried to throw a spanner into the works between mum and Tucker, and he blames mum for your stand against Proposition 14. And now, he’s pissed because Brian bought me a gorgeous dress when he and mum couldn’t be bothered. Brian gave mum some business when he hired people from out of town. They get along, Justin. Brian has been very supportive, and mum adores him.”

Justin sighed. “Why does Brian insist he isn’t Rage? He is, totally.”

“No, he’s not,” Molly shook her head. “Rage manipulates people, and he always wants to hear how great he is. Brian tries to convince you, and if that doesn’t work, he leaves you to it. And if you tell him he’s a great guy, Brian gets all embarrassed. He’s nothing like stupid Rage.”

“Aren’t you a little young for Rage,” Just raised his brows at her. 

“Yeah, right! Don’t let it go to your head now, but Rage is all the rage at school. We have a lot of nerds in class, and some of them are gay. Rage is the only comic that deals with a gay character, so they’re all really into it.”

“Rage is all the rage?” Justin laughed. “You spend too much time with Daphne!”

Molly grinned. “Actually, I spend more time with Leda.” 

“I meant to ask you about that!” Justin sat forward, his expression intent. “Are you actually working at Kinnetik?”

“Yes!” Molly knew she was beaming, but it was still so fresh that she got a high just thinking about it.

“How come?”

“That’s a long story,” Molly hesitated.

“I’ve got all the time in the world. We haven’t had a chance to catch up, but I really want to.”

Well, it was hard to resist that pleading expression. Molly briefly wondered whether Brian thought so too.

“Mum had a lot of contact with Brian, it all started just after you had left. I even overheard her telling Tucker that Brian deserved better than you kicking him in the teeth like that.”

Justin opened his mouth to reply, but Molly raised her hand. “Don’t, Justin. Take it up with her, I’m just telling you what I heard.”

And having said that, she bit her tongue. She had done it again! Damn. This was much more difficult than it seemed. Sometimes, her mouth just ran away with her.

“Fair enough,” Justin grumbled. “But just for the record, it was a mutual decision.”

Molly looked at him, and decided to voice her thought this time. “You keep telling yourself that, Justin. From what I remember, you were gung-ho about marrying the man, and then from one day to the next, you call off the wedding and leave town like the place was going down in flames. I think you were uncomfortable with all the changes and had to get away. It’s what you do. You run when somebody puts you on the spot.”

“Brian wasn’t putting me on the spot,” Justin said weakly.

“No, I know him well enough by now to realize he wouldn’t. But I bet Ted and Michael had something to say. Debbie. Even Lindsay. Am I right?”

Justin nodded. “Yeah, of course they all had an opinion. It suddenly felt all wrong, like I had torn Brian away from them.”

“Heavens, Justin. Had it occurred to you that maybe Brian wanted to be torn away from these jerks? He does exactly what he wants to do, and he doesn’t listen to other people. They can talk at him, and he’ll nod and smile – and then he’ll go and do as he pleases. You really need to pay attention to Brian, and not to his friends!”

“I already surmised as much,” Justin murmured. “What makes you so wise?”

“You sound like mum. Jeez. I’ll be nineteen soon, I’ve got a job and I’m going to college next year. Both of you still think of me as some useless kid, but I’m actually growing up here, you know!”

Justin raised his hands. “Hold your horses, Molly. I didn’t mean it that way!”

“Why don’t you say what you mean? It would make things easier.” Molly frowned.

“I meant – how much time do you get to spend with Brian at Kinnetik? I want to know how come you know him so well.”

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place? I get to spend a bit of time with Brian at work, but mostly I’m with Leda. But because of mum, I see quite a bit of him at home. So, do you want to know how I ended up working for Brian, or not?”

“I do,” Justin said eagerly. “I do!”

“Right then,” Molly settled herself more comfortably. “Mum was always popping in to discuss housing with Brian, and sometimes, she picked me up from school first. She’d mosey off to see Brian, and would you believe, she’d make me wait downstairs, right next to where the day-care center is? It’s not even the reception area, just a place for the delivery men to wait in!”

Justin snorted. “I can totally believe that. Why couldn’t you go up to Brian’s office with her?”

Molly shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe so she could flirt with Brian? She does that, you know.”

Justin scowled. “I know!”

Molly laughed. “She’s not his type.”

“I should hope not!” Justin sounded offended. 

Molly grinned to herself and continued, “Cynthia would chat with me if she saw me, sometimes people would stop and say hello. But mostly I was sitting there like a lemon, and it was really uncomfortable. I used to bring a book, only the kids are always so noisy you can’t concentrate. Anyway, one time Leda saw me on her way out, and she came back with a coffee for me and we talked for a while.”

“That week, I was in town in the afternoon and I spotted Leda across the street. Do you know what she does at Kinnetik?”

Justin shook his head. “I didn’t even know she works for Brian now!”

“Okay. So, Leda is a photographer. And she’s brilliant.”

“I knew she’s a photographer, but I never thought Leda was interested in taking fashion shots,” Justin grinned.

“Ah, see. If you were working for Brian, he’d tell you that prejudice gets in the way of the creative process. She doesn’t do glamor, you’re right about that. She does what Brian calls ‘laying the ground’. She takes shots of scenery. Buildings. Animals. People.”

“I can’t see that being very useful for an advertising agency,” Justin said.

“I thought you once worked for one? Didn’t pay much attention, did you? Had your mind on the hot guy rather than the hot issues?”

Justin grinned. “Can’t blame me. Brian is smokin’ hot, and everybody else was boring!”

Molly rolled her eyes. “He must’ve been so impressed with your work ethics.”

Justin’s grin vanished; she had obviously hit a nerve.

“Anyway. Leda’s shots provide backdrops for ads, or they are the framework for a campaign.”

“Okay, and what is it you do?”

“Patience is a virtue,” Molly winked. “I’m getting there, give me a chance!”

“Alright, alright! I’ll keep my mouth shut,” Justin rolled his eyes.

“As if,” Molly muttered. “So. She was talking to this elderly couple, and I went over to say hello. I overheard part of their conversation, she was trying to get them to sign a release, but they were reluctant. What will the neighbors think! And our son! That sort of thing. Leda had their photo on the laptop, and I pretended to be passing by, then stopped and asked Leda would she take my photo. At first, Leda was a bit annoyed because she thought I was serious.”

“I was gushing about how nice they looked, and that I’d love to have a shot like that of my grandparents… you know, just really buttering them up? And what do you know, they signed Leda’s form!”

“Leda was really pleased because it was just the shot she needed, and she’d been working her ass off. Either the photo didn’t work out, or somebody walked into the frame or whatever. Anyway, she’d had a bit of a day; she was really relieved she was done!”

Justin grinned. “Right. And how did the gift of the gob get you a job?”

“Ah, the Jester jests. Funny, Justin. Leda bought me pizza to thank me, we had a nice hour together and I went home and forgot about it.”

“Next time we went to Kinnetik, Brian invited mum out for lunch. They came downstairs, and Brian rolled his eyes that I was sitting there on my own. Mum actually wanted to send me home, but Brian insisted that I should join them. Didn’t improve her mood one bit, you can imagine!”

Justin laughed. “What, did she want to pretend he was her boyfriend?”

Molly shrugged. “I have no idea. But she wasn’t exactly pleased when Brian thanked me for helping Leda. I got an earful in the car after because I’d forgotten to tell her about it. Jeez. Half the time she isn’t really listening to me, but as soon as it’s even remotely about Brian, you can bet she’s all ears!”

“I remember that,” Justin said seriously, “She never listened. I think her mind is elsewhere usually.”

“Yeah, well. I’m used to that. And it wasn’t as if I’d done it to show her up or anything! I hadn’t expected Leda to mention it to Brian.”

“So,” Justin prompted, “What happened then?”

“Brian is dead easy to talk to, right?”

“Not that I’d noticed, no.” Justin shook his head. “He’s pretty difficult to approach.”

Molly grinned. “Yeah, but only if you try to land him!”

“He can still be difficult,” Justin said in a small voice.

Molly felt sorry for him, but also a little impatient. What did he expect? He had left the man, for pity’s sake! Did he really think everything was going to be all sunshine and roses? Brian was bound to have a few issues with Justin’s behavior, wasn’t he? To her mind, Justin was damn lucky Brian took him back in the first place. After all, Brian had been with Judson who was adorable. She still needed to figure out what it was about Justin…

Justin cleared his throat, bringing her back to the conversation. “Then what?”

“Well, Brian was sweet and friendly, and we chatted for a bit and then he asked what I wanted to do after finishing school. Only, I had no idea, really. I knew I wanted to do something visual. You know I can’t draw and paint, though; not like you, anyway. Whenever I wanted to discuss choices with mum, she had more important things on her mind. Career counseling hadn’t been much help either. Talking to Brian, I knew where I was headed within the hour! Brian suggested I study visual communication and communication design. And then he said I could do an internship at Kinnetik to see whether that suited me!”

“Wow, lucky,” Justin commented.

“Yeah! I thought so too! And then mum had to butt in and say it was great that I’d get some work experience and he wouldn’t have to pay me. You should’ve seen the look Brian gave her! He asked her was she going to forego commission on the next house, and of course, she said she couldn’t afford to do that. He told her that I can’t afford to work for nothing either, because after all, I’m supposed to be saving up for college. Mum was really quiet for the rest of the time!” 

Justin laughed. “I bet!”

Molly grinned. “I had a great lunch. Mum – not so much. She really chewed me out about ‘sneakily’ getting my foot in the door at Kinnetik.”

“She can be pretty mean. Who knows, maybe she wants to work for Brian?” Justin sighed. “But what are you doing working with Leda if you want to do visual communication? That’s a different area, isn’t it?”

“Yes and no. I spent the first week in the vis-com department, and then Brian said he’d looked at the work I had done and he thought I have a good eye for composition. So every now and then, I get to work with Leda – we look at her photos and find something that will give a graphics designer what they’re looking for. I’m actually pretty good at spotting images that will work in a given context. Brian says that I might want to combine my studies and go for graphics design.”

“I’m impressed,” Justin said, and Molly thought he sounded honest. “You’re in your final year now, aren’t you? When did you have time for the internship?”

“I go in straight after school, and Brian and Leda make sure I get to leave on time so I’ll have time for revision and homework. Brian is a great boss!”

“So mum will finance college,” Justin said, “Are you going to live at home?”

Molly shook her head. “Mum can’t afford to help me. Craig has a college fund for me, and Brian already said I can continue to work at Kinnetik. Most people have to work their way through college anyway, right? I’m not going to stay with mum and Tucker, though. I have a feeling they wouldn’t mind some quality time alone, you know.”

“Wow, you got it all sorted. You going to live on campus, then?”

“I won’t have enough money for that. Brian offered me an apartment, Kinnetik has company housing.”

Justin shook his head. “Kinnetik is going up in the world, isn’t it? Day-care and company housing. Wow.”

“Health care, savings plan, retirement fund - Brian looks after his people.”

Justin shook his head. “I really need to find out more. Do you believe Cynthia would explain stuff to me?”

“How should I know? I think you’d be better off asking Brian. If you ask Cynthia without discussing it with him first, it will seem like you’re snooping. Cynthia might not feel comfortable talking about work with you; she’s fiercely loyal to Brian. Also, it might be a good idea to show some interest in Brian outside the bedroom.”

Justin was silent for a long moment, and then he smiled. “I don’t know how it happened, Molly, but you’re an adult. Weird, because it seems like yesterday that you were playing with dolls.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that I’m an adult, I’m fully aware of the fact! Anyway, I wasn’t playing with dolls when you left for New York. You were gone for one year, not ten. Only, you never paid attention to me, you had other things on your mind than your kid sister.”

Nodding, Justin admitted, “True. I’ve been a lousy brother. Is it too late to make amends?”

Molly thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess not. I can’t really give you up for adoption, now can I?”

Justin laughed. “Right. I’ll try to be a better big brother from now on!”

“Hold it right there! You can be my brother, but you can’t be my big brother. I want to be an equal.”

He clearly hadn’t expected that, he even looked a little hurt. Molly felt sorry for Justin, but really, she didn’t want a brother at all. She wanted friends in her life, not family. Hers was dysfunctional, and she didn’t feel like dealing with all the baggage the family brought to the table. She wanted to be like Brian – choose those you want in your life, and close the door on those you don’t. You still got to deal with some baggage, but at least it was by choice.

“And where will you go for advice,” Justin asked, sounding offended.

“Where I have been going for the last year. Leda, or preferably Brian,” Molly said instantly. “He gives great advice, and he never thinks about what’s in it for him. Mum always makes sure that whatever you do is also convenient for her. And you have left me behind, Justin. You left me behind when you shacked up with Brian. Not a thought, not a word for your bewildered eleven-year-old sister! That was mean, you know that, right?”

“What was I supposed to do? It’s not like I was very welcome at home after coming out,” Justin said weakly.

Molly rolled her eyes. “Right. It’s true, you weren’t. But you could’ve come see me at school. Tell me to meet you somewhere after school. One minute, I’ve got parents who mostly get along, and a brother who is smart, funny and usually nice to me. Next thing I know, my parents are fighting all the time, my brother has left and I don’t even know whether he has a home or is sleeping under a bridge somewhere – and nobody much thought about me anymore. Nobody explained what was going on with you. Did you know the birthday party you ruined was the last party I had? Mum couldn’t be bothered since, and I stopped asking because I’m just so fed up with hearing how sad she is about the divorce, or how we don’t really have the money, or how it’s not convenient, maybe next month dear.”

Molly took a deep breath. Looking at Justin, she saw that he had tears in his eyes.

“Damn, Molly. I don’t know what to say. I admit, I didn’t spend much time thinking about you. I thought you had to be okay; you were with mum, after all. I never realized she was treating you like shit.”

Molly sighed. “It’s not all bad. She’s okay, most of the time. It’s not like we fight a lot, or anything. It’s just that I get the feeling she’s really disappointed in how her life turned out, and I’m a constant reminder of that.”

“But she’s happy with Tucker, you said. How come she’s still not paying you much attention?”

“Young love. She wants me out of the house, I think. When I told her about the apartment Brian offered me, she jumped at the chance.”

“At least she’s paying for that, right?”

Molly shook her head. “I told you, money is tight. As long as I work at Kinnetik, I don’t have to pay rent on the apartment until I graduate, and I get some money besides. Brian says it’s an investment in my future.”

“He hopes you’ll work for him after you graduated.”

“I already told him I would. I can work with Judson too, and I can get work experience at other affiliates of Kinnetik. I don’t really need to look elsewhere, and I have so much fun working for Brian!”

“Good for you,” Justin said, sounding honest. “I thought Judson was working for Brian?”

“I don’t quite know how that works out, but Judson does have his own company. It’s pretty small though, and I think he mostly works for local companies. He seems to be doing a lot of legwork for Kinnetik these days.”

“Leda and you… I meant to ask…,” Justin trailed off.

Molly sighed to herself. Not him as well! 

“Mum is already giving me the evil eye about it. I never noticed, but Leda said something, which I dismissed. Only, Brian also mentioned it, so I started to pay attention. Every time she sees me and Leda together, mum gets that look.”

Justin laughed. “What look is that?”

“The look you never noticed,” Molly said, aware she sounded grumpy. “Like she wonders what she’s done to deserve this.”

“I have to admit, you don’t set off my gaydar at all. Maybe it’s because you’re my sister?”

“Or maybe it’s because there’s nothing there to set it off,” Molly grouched.

“Oh. So you are not a lesbo? Just friends with Leda?”

“None of your business what I am, really,” Molly stated. “But I don’t want you to keep thinking about it. I like guys, okay? I still want to do it with a woman, just to make sure. Don’t think that makes me a lesbo, though. Brian says it doesn’t. And for the record, Leda isn’t interested in me, and I’m not interested in her. Not in that way. She’s a very good friend. Besides, Leda has had a hot affair for a few weeks, and she’s really been enjoying herself.”

“Leda had an affair? Who with?”

Molly shrugged. “Not the foggiest. I only know that she always left her bike at Kinnetik, and Brian gave her a lift. For Leda to worry about what the wind will do to her hair, it has to be somebody really special.”

“I say!” Justin laughed. “Shame you don’t know who, though. I might have to needle Brian about it.”

“He won’t tell you. He’ll say it’s none of your business until Leda wants to tell you.”

“That sounds like he already said that to somebody,” Justin mused.

“He did. Ted.”

“I’m not going to ask,” Justin decided. “I don’t want him to think I’m like Ted!”

Molly nodded. “Good thinking!”

“But can I ask why you want to do it with a woman? Aren’t you sure?”

Molly shrugged. “I want to see whether I like it. Nothing wrong with experimenting, is there?”

“Of course not. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Molly grinned. “I’m not seventeen. I do know the difference between a one-night stand and ‘the love of my life’, you know.”

“You haven’t met the love of your life yet,” Justin said categorically.

Molly raised her brows at him. “You don’t know that, Jester. You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know a lot more than I did an hour ago,” Justin said, sounding pleased.

Tilting her head, Molly said, “I know more than I did an hour ago, too. But there’s still a ton of things I want to ask!”

“I’m cool with that,” Justin smiled. “But how about we take a break, get a drink and wait for lunch?”

Molly nodded. “Good idea, I’m parched! And you should eat, you’re awfully thin, you know!”

They went to get some fizzy drinks, and a few moments later, Daphne, Matt and Jim joined them. Molly realized that for now, the chance to talk to her brother was gone.


	32. Thirty-Two

Richard wondered how to let Brian know that he had overheard his conversations. How would Brian react? Either amused, or angry. Still, tell him he must.

Brian had set the basket with the wine to one side, and now began to clean the sink. Sparse movements, efficient. Richard suddenly wondered whether Joan had forced Brian to do the cleaning, as well as the gardening. What about Claire? What had she done around the house, if anything at all?

Brian had just collected all the broken glass and tossed it when something outside seemed to catch his attention. He straightened and looked through the window, and now Richard could hear the children’s eager voices.

JR came dashing into the kitchen, Gus followed a bit more slowly.

“It’s still there,” Richard heard the little girl’s voice. Relieved, excited.

“Of course it is still there, JR,” Gus said with a touch of exasperation. “I told you, only my daddy has a key! Nobody will touch our food!”

“Up,” JR demanded, and Brian complied.

JR put her arms around his neck, her cheek pressed against Brian’s.

“You okay, JR?” Brian’s voice was soft; he gently pushed her hair out of the way.

“Okay,” JR said with a deep sigh. “Love you!”

“Love you too, sweetheart,” Brian smiled.

“Food always there?” JR asked hesitantly.

“Yes, JR. Your food will always be there. And when you get home, I’ll make sure you get your very own fridge there.”

“Daddy visit and steal food,” JR said worriedly.

“No, JR. Your daddy will not visit again,” Brian said firmly.

JR lifted her head, her smile bright. “No more daddy?”

“No more daddy,” Brian confirmed. “Just me. Okay, sweetheart?”

JR nodded eagerly, pressing a long kiss to Brian’s chin. “Love dada!”

Brian grinned. “That’s settled then. Do you want something to eat?”

JR looked down at Gus.

“It’s okay,” Gus said happily. “Daddy sorted it all out. You can eat as much as you like now!”

Brian reached out to ruffle his hair. “That’s right, you can both eat as much as you like. So, what do you want?”

“Peach,” JR said decisively.

“Me, too, please,” Gus said.

Brian grinned at them. “Help yourselves; you know the peaches on the shelf are yours.”

Richard shook his head as the kids walked away hand-in-hand, each munching on a juicy fruit.

Brian watched for a long moment, then picked up some peaches and put them on the shelf for the kids.

Sighing, he finished cleaning and tossed the rag into the recycle box with an impatient gesture.

He looked around the kitchen, bent and picked something up off the floor. Holding it in his left hand, he looked at it for long moments. Then his fingers closed around the small item, and he uttered a low moan.

Head thrown back, Brian transformed. 

Body tense and drawn like a bow, ready to spring into action. Teeth bared, eyes aglitter – the snarl turned the handsome face into a mask of savage fury. A paroxysm of anguish. 

His fingers mere centimeters from the boning knife, Brian’s shaking hand was straining for the knife block. 

An effort to reach the knife? No. Fighting the compulsion.

It was something Richard had not seen before. He stared in horrified fascination as Brian battled his demons. This curious mixture of wrath and woe - this was rage. 

Justin really had no idea who Rage was. If he had ever witnessed anything like this, he’d not have been able to put it into a comic. He might have created a stunning painting from it though, on the scale of Hebert’s “Angry Man” etching, or Nevinson’s ‘Anger’.

A guttural sound that didn’t even seem human, and Brian wrenched his hand away from the knife block. Palms up and out as if fighting off unseen forces of evil, Brian took a step backward, and another. The struggle seemed to manifest as something physical as Brian battled the beast within.

It took time, and Richard cursed his inability to reach out, to help.

Finally, eyes squeezed shut, Brian slumped against the fridge, fists clenched and breath labored.

Hands shaking, he got out his cell and speed-dialed. “Kitchen.”

 

A movement at the open door caught Richard’s eye. Damn. How long had Gus been standing there? Richard found it difficult to interpret the expression on the child’s face. Compassion? Yes. And what else? Understanding. As if a light had come on. Sometimes, he saw faces like that in court. The boy was too young for that kind of mien. Meeting his eyes, Gus held a finger to his lips and silently slipped up the stairs. Richard had the distinct impression the kid had sat down on the steps. Within earshot, but out of sight.

 

Moments later, Shane burst through the door at a dead run. “What?”

Brian whirled, threw himself at Shane, clung to him for dear life. “Don’t. Don’t let go. Hold me. Stop me! Don’t. Don’t let me. Do that again. You’ve got to. Stop me, Shane!”

Stunned, Richard watched his son grabbing Brian in a firm embrace, forcing Brian’s arms on his back in a firm grip and holding him impossibly close. “Hush, Bri. Tell me who.”

“Lindsay.”

“Won’t let you near her, deartháir,” Shane said firmly. “I swear.”

“I can’t. Do that. Again. Nightmares. Those dreams! Hate myself. So much. Don’t. You promised.”

“I’ll keep my promise, Bri,” Shane said, his voice calm and confident. “Don’t hate yourself. You have no reason. You did what was right.”

“Not my place,” Brian was breathing hard, shuddering so much that Shane had trouble holding him. “Shouldn’t have. Been there. Shouldn’t have gone. Remember. Remember everything. Can’t sleep. Can’t eat. Not again. Shane. You promised.”

“Not your fault you went,” Shane said grimly. “You were tricked, remember?”

“Don’t let me. Not again!”

“Bri,” Shane’s voice was calm, but Richard knew his son. His sons. As always, when one of them was in pain, the other one was hurting too. Just what was Brian talking about? What could he have done that caused him so much grief?

Brian was still shaking with reaction, and Shane changed his hold, gently grasping Brian’s chin. “Deep breath, deartháir. Here, look at me. No, into my eyes. Focus, Bri. Deep breath. Come on, we can do this. Take another deep breath. That’s it, you’re doing great.”

For a while, there was no sound other than the regular, deep breaths the two men took together, maintaining eye contact throughout.

After a while, Shane obviously thought Brian had calmed down sufficiently to ask, “What did she do?”

“The kids,” Brian seemed to choke on the two words. He held out the left hand, unclenching his fingers with a visible effort. “Hungry.”

Shane bit his lip. “Dried fish? They ate that? Fuck.”

“Why, Shane? Why did I? Do that? When I knew? Lindsay. Can’t be trusted. What got into me? To have a child with that bitch?”

“Why have children at all,” Shane asked quietly. “I never understood that. You are so adamant about not wanting to be an Ersatz-hetero, yet here you are.”

Brian snorted a breath. “You won’t know until you have a child. That first moment you get to hold them? Nothing compares. Nothing.”

“You weren’t so gung-ho on kids when Erin had Vic. I remember on the way to hospital, she was complaining about the painful contractions. And you told her it was her choice to have a child, so man up and don’t bitch.”

“Did I really say that to a woman in labor? Shit, I was such a conceited little bastard. So full of myself. Poor Erin.”

Shane laughed softly, filling a glass with water for Brian. “Yeah. We were all wondering what the hell she saw in you.”

“Thanks for that,” Brian sniffed, drinking the water down in hasty gulps. “And the water. At least you didn’t beat up on me.”

“Hey, you were gazillions times better than Glenn Cooper!”

“Lucky me,” Brian mumbled. “I didn’t fancy fighting you.”

“But you would’ve,” Shane knew.

“Would’ve wiped the floor with you,” Brian tossed his head, and Shane laughed.

“Probably,” he conceded. “You were always more competitive than I am. But that thing about holding a kid – I held Vic, and of course, I loved him. Love him. But it never occurred to me to have my own.”

Brian shook his head. “It has to be your kid, then you’ll feel it. Like with Gus? He reached out, that impossibly tiny little hand touching mine – and I knew that I’d never love anybody the way I love him.”

“To quote Gertrude Stein, a kid is a kid is a kid is a kid, no?”

Brian frowned, “Misquote Stein, you mean. And no. Roses are all the same, but children are not. I tell you, you cannot understand. You really need to have your own. Isn’t that right, Richard? You felt like that about Erin and Shane, didn’t you?”

Embarrassed, Richard surfaced from his chair. “Yes. Still do, as a matter of fact.”

Shane grinned. “Come on, Dad. Why the long face? You knew we knew that you were there, right?”

Brian rolled his eyes. “We’re gay, athair. We know when somebody is watching us.”

Richard joined them in the kitchen. “Sorry, Brian.”

Brian shrugged. “I get it. With the kids, no big deal. Then Molly, and it got more difficult to come out of hiding by the second. If Mel hadn’t come in when she did, I would’ve taken pity on you.”

“Wish you had,” Richard grumbled good-naturedly. “You sore, son?”

“No,” Brian and Shane said in unison, and laughed.

Richard rolled his eyes and drew Brian into an embrace. “Sorry about the kids. Sorry about not helping you just now.”

“Nothing you can do when I feel like that.”

“Rage,” Richard murmured.

“Yes. Rage,” Brian confirmed. “I don’t get like that a lot, though. Certainly not when anybody sees.”

“Anything I can do to help with the kids at least?”

“Go over the papers when Tom brings them in. Make sure they’re watertight,” Brian said promptly.

“You got it,” Richard nodded. “Say, what was that about earlier, about…”

Standing behind Brian, Shane adamantly shook his head, gesturing ‘no’. Seeing Shane’s horrified expression and taking in the widened eyes, Richard was about to interrupt himself when Jim and Judson came into the kitchen.

“Bad timing,” Judson said instantly. “We’ll come back.”

Brian stepped away from Richard. “No, it’s okay. Stay.” He looked at Jim. “Have you examined the kids?”

Jim nodded. “Judson was my witness.”

“Why Judson,” Brian asked. “Not fair involving him in this shit as well.”

“My decision. I don’t mind,” Judson said calmly.

“You just split up, he has no reason to be particularly nice to you,” Jim explained.

“Good thinking,” Richard said approvingly, “You should’ve been a lawyer.”

Jim shrugged. “Seen a lawsuit or two, haven’t I. These days, most doctors have.”

“To the point, please,” Brian demanded impatiently. 

Jim tilted his head, studying Brian for a long moment. “More rest. More food. More rest, Brian!”

Brian took a deep breath. “I’m fine, Jim.”

Jim raised his brows. “I’ll take your word for it, Dr. House. Or maybe not.”

“Look, let me deal with this and I’ll go have a nap, okay?”

Richard hesitated for a moment, then laughed. Shane rolled his eyes.

Judson gave Brian an indulgent smile, and Jim snorted. “He gets some rest, and he gets out of having lunch. Nothing doing, Brian. Lunch first, nap second.”

“Or else, huh,” Brian grumbled.

“There’s four of us, and only one of you,” Richard said mildly. “Think you can wipe the floor with all of us?”

“Oh, no fair,” Shane grinned. “He wouldn’t fight you if you paid him.”

Brian smiled. “True. Okay, I cave. Lunch, rest. Now, Jim. The kids?”

Jim shrugged. “Basically in good health. On the verge of malnourishment, as you said. But I think you caught it in time, especially if we can feed JR more honeyed carrots and the like. Gus is too thin, but she’s really skinny.”

Brian sighed. “What did they say?”

“JR loves you to pieces because you gave her her very own fridge. Gus – you’re his hero. You always have a solution to all his problems. I wasn’t sure about the difficulties you mentioned, so I asked Dave and Ken to speak with them. They think JR will just remember that wow, she had her own fridge when she was a kid. Combined with Lindsay often telling her she’ll get fat, she’ll likely end up thinking she was a hoggish kid. Gus? Ken says that’s a little more complicated because he’s so far ahead of his years. But he’ll be okay, because you reinforced the certain knowledge that he can turn to you when in trouble.”

Brian took a deep breath. “Good. Sorry you all got dragged into this.”

Jim shrugged. “That’s what friends are for.”

“Has Melanie made up her mind,” Judson asked gently.

Brian shook his head. “I would’ve thought it was a no-brainer, but she’s been talking to Leda for ages. No decision yet.”

“So what will you do,” Shane asked.

Brian shrugged. “I asked Tom to draw up papers for either outcome, just to be prepared. I’ll do whatever is necessary.”

“Melanie will dump Lindsay, you’ll see,” Judson said confidently.

Brian nodded. “Here’s hoping. Which reminds me, I’d better book a flight. Two flights.”

“Flights to where,” Jim asked.

“Toronto. Melanie needs to get home and pick up her stuff. I don’t want Lindsay to go back and smash her grandmother’s glass menagerie out of spite. Mel would break her heart.”

“I’ll go with her,” Judson offered. “She’ll need some help with the heavy lifting.”

Brian pulled him into a tight embrace. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

Judson leaned back a little. “Why not?”

Brian sighed. “Because I want you here. Need you here. All of you.”

“Leda,” Richard suggested hesitantly.

“Oh, not a good idea. Lindsay will get really nasty if she finds out the evil ex has been in the house.”

“Ask Emmett,” Jim advised. “Mel needs to reconnect with her friends in the Burgh, and Emmett has been looking for an elegant exit.”

“That’ll work,” Brian nodded. “Emmett is a doll; he’ll help.”

Right then, Mel and Leda came out of the library. Mel’s eyes were red and swollen, and Leda looked grim.

“Okay there, girls,” Brian asked.

They nodded. “I need to book a flight to Toronto for Thursday,” Mel said. “I’ll say I need to head back for an interview or something.”

Brian tilted his head. “We can book the ticket via Kinnetik, company discount. Whom do you want to take with you? You can’t shift everything on your own.”

Mel took a deep breath. “You’d better write down everything you spent. I will pay you back. Might take a while, but I will.”

Brian shook his head. “Can’t remember how much I spent. If you could drop off a folder at Gus’ school, Kinnetik will pay for your trip. I’d have to send a courier otherwise.”

“Gus won’t be attending that school now, will he? Why do the ad anyway,” Jim asked.

Brian shrugged. “I promised. Besides, the work is done. May as well deliver now that I said I would.”

Mel frowned at him. “Brian. I’m not …”

Brian interrupted. “Not now, Mel. Let’s discuss money some other time. I’ve had a day, and it’s not even midday yet. Do you think Emmett would travel with you?”

Nodding, Mel said, “You know Emmett. Always happy to help. And I’m comfortable with him. I would’ve asked Leda, but I can just see Lindsay’s reaction if I did that!”

“You and me both,” Leda grimaced. “Not that I care, but I think it’s best for the kids if you two could split up relatively peacefully.”

“Agreed,” Brian sighed. “Well, could you talk to Emmett? Maybe Calvin wants to tag along?”

“That’s three tickets,” Mel said hesitantly.

“You need somebody to drive the truck, and Calvin has licenses for Canada and the US of A,” Brian commented.

Mel heaved a sigh. “You’re way ahead of me.”

“I usually am,” Brian smirked, and they all laughed.

Shaking their heads, the women went outside.

Shane studied Brian’s face for a moment. “Need a lift?”

“Lift where,” Brian seemed puzzled.

“Liberty Avenue,” Shane shrugged.

Brian made a face. “Right. Because I really feel like cruising now.”

“Cruising? You just take your pick. Snap your fingers at the chosen one, he’ll happily follow you home,” Jim grinned.

“Or look around the mansion,” Judson said quietly.

Brian went into his arms, pulling him into a gentle kiss. They exchanged a look, Judson nodded and Brian smiled, shaking his head.

“I need some speed,” Brian decided, taking a deep breath.

“No road around here for the sports car,” Jim frowned in thought.

“Not the car, not mechanical speed,” Shane said. “Horse-race?”

Brian’s face cleared. “You got it! Who else?”

Judson grinned. “Yeah well. I can hardly say no, can I?”

“Jim?”

“No way,” Jim shook his head. “If you boys want to break bones, you’ll need a medic on hand. Off you go. And Brian, not to spoil your fun, or anything – but I’ll be counting bites later.”

“I don’t plan on getting bitten,” Brian said innocently. Laughing, the three men dashed out of the door.

“Oh dear,” Jim grinned. “I foresee bareback riding and fence jumping.”

“Hedge hopping,” Richard smirked. “And galloping galore.”

“They’ll probably come back via the alley,” Jim said. “Let’s watch.”

“Let’s,” Richard agreed, pouring some fruit juice for both of them. Together, they stepped out of the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> deartháir - brother (Irish/Gaelic)


	33. Thirty-Three

They took an appreciative deep breath; the air was fresh and scented.

“What’s that smell, is it the clematis,” Jim wondered. “I’m not really up on my botany.”

“It’s the honeysuckle,” Richard pointed to the plant climbing up the trunk of a nearby tree. 

“Nice,” Jim murmured, taking another deep breath and then a sip of the juice Richard had provided.

“What was that with Judson just now,” Richard wondered. “I’m not always getting all the subtext.”

Jim grinned. “I’m not sure I do. But that? Judson made him an offer, and Brian refused.”

“Judson must be nuts,” Richard mused. “I wouldn’t offer.”

“He’d do anything for Brian, and we all know that sex is his quickest cure-all.”

“Shouldn’t Brian turn to Justin?”

“Probably. But he’d not appreciate having to explain all this shit, and Justin would want an explanation. If not now, later.”

“True,” Richard grinned. “So why turn down Judson?”

“For the same reason you wouldn’t offer. It would very likely help Brian, at least short-term, but it wouldn’t be fair to Judson.”

“The man is a saint,” Richard decided.

Jim nodded. “Yes. Judson is one hell of a guy, and if your Shane doesn’t treat him like gold, we’ll all come crashing down on him. Just so you know.”

“I’ll be crashing right along with you,” Richard said firmly.

“Mind you, it’s not as if any of us would regard having sex with Brian as some sort of hardship,” Jim grinned.

Richard nodded. “That’s the impression I had. Anybody here who’d turn him down?”

“Most of the ladies, obviously. Tucker, Matt, Calvin, myself,” Jim said immediately.

“Tucker and Matt I get,” Richard frowned. “Calvin, though?”

“He works for Brian, so he probably figures that it wouldn’t be in his best interest. Not that Brian ever looked that way, mind. After all, he’s Emmett’s partner. To Brian, that means hands off.”

“And you?”

“I’m straight,” Jim laughed. “Why won’t people believe me?”

Richard shrugged. “I don’t know about people, but I’ve seen Brian looking at you. He doesn’t normally look at straight men like that.”

“That’s because he knows he tempts me,” Jim sighed.

“Why, if you’re straight?” Richard was genuinely interested.

Jim shrugged. “I met him at a bad time, and it would’ve been easy to grab him on the rebound. These days, he’s just sexy as hell, and it doesn’t matter much that he happens to be male. Mind, it would probably alter our friendship, and I’m not willing to take that risk. Now that Justin is back, Brian will probably be monogamous anyway, at least for a while.”

“How did you meet? I know you were in college together, I always thought that’s how you met.”

Ken joined them, carrying his own glass of juice. “We just saw Brian, Shane and Judson take the horses out for a race. Bareback, no reins. Leda is taking pictures from over there,” he pointed, “And Carrie has taken your video camera, Richard. She’s hoping to get a decent bit of film if they come down the alley. Thought I’d come ask you is Brian alright?” 

He looked at Jim expectantly, who shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Anything to do with the children, it hits him hard. I think it’s one of those days when Brian needs speed and distraction.”

Ken sighed. “So much for some much needed R and R, right?”

“As soon as I heard the Lost Boys and their mother were part of the package, I knew he wasn’t going to get much of that. I didn’t expect things to get this out of hand, though,” Jim sighed as well.

Gus came wandering out of the house, looking confused and unhappy.

“Hey there, homme beau!” Jim smiled at the boy. “You don’t look so good. Can I help?”

Gus took a deep breath. “I need words. Lots of words. Learning one new word a day isn’t enough. I need more, many more.”

“Why do you need so many words,” Ken asked quietly.

“I’m understanding something. But I can’t think about it, because I don’t have the words,” Gus sounded aggravated. “It’s all a muddle.”

“Maybe we can give you some words,” Richard said. “What kind of word are you looking for?”

Gus looked up at him. “When you get it! You know, not slowly learning something. But seeing something and wham! you get it. All at once. You know?”

“I do know. Like a light coming on? An epiphany,” Richard said. He had an idea what the boy was referring to. “If you mean your dad in the kitchen earlier. I saw your face.”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Gus beamed at him. “Can you say it again please?”

“E – pi – phany,” Richard repeated patiently. “You had an epiphany.”

“Epiphany,” Gus repeated, taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Grandpa Richard!”

“You’re welcome,” Richard smiled. “Anything else?”

Gus pressed his fists to his temples, squeezing his eyes shut. “My head isn’t fast enough for all the thinking I have to do,” he said unhappily.

“A word of advice,” Ken said gently.

Gus looked up at him with a hopeful expression. “Yes, please. Daddy says you teach people to think.”

“That’s a nice job description,” Ken smiled. He reached for the honeysuckle and picked a leaf. “Here, let me show you. Look at the leaf. You can see it clearly, can’t you?”

Gus nodded readily. “Sure.”

“But what happens when I do this,” Ken brought the leaf close to the boy’s face. “What do you see now?”

Gus giggled. “That’s silly! It’s too close, all I see is green!”

Ken moved the leaf away. “That’s right. When you get too close to something, you can’t see clearly anymore. So, can I suggest that you give all that hard work a rest? Go and enjoy yourself for a bit. Run around some, have a game with your sister. Even our brains need time off, every now and then. You’ll probably find that you can think much better if you do something else for a while.”

“I forgot!” Gus exclaimed. “That’s what my daddy told me to do when thinking gets hard! Thank you for reminding me!”

“Anytime, champ,” Ken grinned.

“Can I have the leaf, please,” Gus asked.

Ken shrugged, handing it over. “Sure. But what are you going to do with it?”

“Judson says never to hurt a plant without a reason,” Gus replied. “I’m going to keep it, to remind myself that I mustn’t get too close to things. Thank you, Ken!”

“You’re welcome, Gus!”

The three men watched the boy run off.

“Wow,” Jim said. “I think I’ll pick a leaf for myself.”

Ken grinned. “Busman’s holiday. I’ll start charging!”

They laughed. 

“Sound advice is worth good money,” Jim said. “I owe you one.”

“Tell us how you met Brian, and we’re even,” Ken said comfortably. “I’m collecting people’s first impressions of Brian.”

“What are you gonna do with them?”

“Private entertainment,” Ken grinned. “By now I’m so close to Brian that I don’t see him clearly anymore.”

Jim shrugged. “You’re aware that even those first impressions are tainted by long acquaintance, right?”

“Sure,” Ken nodded. “Still. Unless it’s too personal?”

Jim shrugged again. “Too personal? After all this time? Not really. I just don’t like remembering how stupid I once was.”

“You’re not alone in that,” Richard smiled. “We all like to forget that there was a time when we thought we knew it all.”

“True.” Jim took a thirsty mouthful of his juice. “College. There was this girl, Karen. I had bought a ring, and that night, I was going to ask her to marry me. She picked that day to ditch me, in favor of some guy who offered what she termed financial security.”

Jim sighed, the memory obviously still painful. “And then I found out that I had failed an exam. Remember how everything is all black and white when you’re that age? It’s always all or nothing, right?”

“I remember that,” Richard said softly, his voice tinged with regrets of his own.

“Yeah,” Ken sighed. “You’re either on top of the world, or in the deepest hell of depression.”

Jim smirked. “Right. That’s the frame of mind I was in. Depression. Despair. To make matters worse, it had been raining all week. Autumn weather, though it was spring.”

“Sounds dreadful,” Ken said.

“It was. I hadn’t made friends at college yet; back then it took me a while to feel comfortable with people. Everything looked bleak, and I felt all alone. Just don’t tell my sister I said that, she’d kill me!”

Ken nodded knowingly. “My brother would, too. I get it.”

Jim sighed. “So. I’m standing on West End Bridge, looking down, wondering whether it’s high enough because I want to die, not end up crippled. It’s raining buckets, there’s a nasty cold wind blowing and I’m drenched to the bone. I’ve been crying, my nose is running and I’m shivering.”

“Huh,” Ken muttered. “Makes me want to hand you a bumbershoot, a decade later.”

Richard laughed. “Did you say bumbershoot? That word was old-fashioned when I was a kid!”

“A decade and a half, thank you. They’ve been watching ‘Chitty Chitty Bang Bang’,” Jim sighed. “Somebody must be in love with Dick van Dyke!”

Richard smirked. “Brian would say that’s a name to go to bed with!”

“He’s a fun actor,” Ken shrugged. “And I like bumbershoot. The word was a big hit with Daphne!”

“That girl loves words,” Jim nodded.

“So, you’re standing there, wet inside and out – what happened? As you obviously didn’t jump,” Ken wanted to know.

Jim grinned. “Brian saved my life, Kinney-style.”

“Do tell,” Ken grinned, obviously intrigued. 

Shrugging, Jim said, “As you said. Here I am, feeling wet, miserable, and desperately sorry for myself. Out of nowhere, enter Brian Kinney. Of course, Brian isn’t wet. He’s a vision in white shirt and pants, with a damn queen-sized umbrella. Bumbershoot. He isn’t miserable, and clearly, mere weather doesn’t have an effect on his mood.”

A self-deprecating snort, then Jim continued, “He leans on the railing next to me, looks down and says, ‘Jim. This is my favorite bridge. You better have a damn good reason for jumping.’ And I say, like the complete dork that I am, ‘How come you know my name?’ Brian says, ‘Hot guy in art classes, yesterday sat one row down, three seats over.’”

Richard and Ken laughed, and after a moment, Jim joined in.

“It was completely surreal. Then he hands me a dry tissue, and I’m wondering how come that I’m soaked and he manages to keep his tissues dry.”

They laughed again, and Jim grinned.

“Blow your fucking nose and tell me why you want to die, he says. Thing is, I didn’t want to die. I wanted to stop feeling lousy,” Jim chuckled. “Only, at that point, I hadn’t figured that out. So, I tell him about the exam, and he asks can I take it again. Of course, I can, and Brian just rolls his eyes at me and says he knows there’s more. So I tell him about Karen, and Brian asks is she the only broad left in the world.”

“Of course, she isn’t,” Ken said, and Richard chuckled.

Jim nodded. “Brian gives me a dirty look and says, ‘You’re not jumping off my bridge for a stupid reason like that.’”

“And you didn’t,” Richard smiled.

“Huh. Ever been on the receiving end of one of those looks? I whined at him that I didn’t know what to do, and Brian tells me that first, I should get out of the rain, second, into a hot shower, and third, my head back together.”

“Somehow, I end up walking with him to his car, and he grumbles about getting the seat wet, but he bundles me in nonetheless.”

“Aw, he’s so sweet,” Ken grinned.

“Yeah,” Jim smirked. “Only, he didn’t stop bitching about his stupid seat! Then we get to the loft – do you remember what the loft looked like back then, Richard?”

Richard nodded. “Big empty space. I think he only had the Corbusier, and a large bed. Tiny stereo. Fridge, microwave, percolator. Rickety camping table and chairs. Some clothes. I think that was it?”

“That’s right. Talk minimalist! I told him there was room for improvement, and he says that life is room for improvement. The alternative is jumping off a bridge somewhere.”

Startled, Richard laughed. “That told you.”

“It sure did,” Jim sighed. “He got me into his shower, and by the time I was done, he had heated some soup, and put bread and butter on the table. Best meal I ever had. Best coffee, too. Brian was the best company, and he still is.”

“Thing is, I think I would’ve jumped, just to thumb my nose at Karen. A week later, I was on top of the world again.”

“How come,” Ken asked what Richard also wanted to know.

Jim shrugged. “Got in with the Kinney-crowd, didn’t I. Brian sort of mothered me for a bit, and then backed off when I was feeling better. For somebody who always tells people he doesn’t give a shit, he’s remarkably kind.”

Richard sighed. “Blame his family. They mistake kindness for weakness, and Brian doesn’t like being exploited. He’d rather keep people at arm’s length, until he is certain they can be trusted.”

Ken shook his head. “Not easy to live like that. Say, how come he knew where you were, or did he end up on that bridge by chance?”

“I later found out that he had overheard Karen telling a friend that she was going to fry much bigger fish. Kept an eye on me after that. I never even noticed he was following me around.”

Ken grinned. “Heck, he really did pay attention in psychology.”

“Yeah. Trying to talk me out of it probably would’ve resulted in me jumping anyway, just to be obstreperous. The way he assumed he could tell me what to do? Never occurred to me to question him.”

“How did Brian afford the loft back then? Fuller isn’t exactly cheap to live on.”

Jim shrugged. “Haven’t the foggiest. Richard?”

Richard hesitated. Then again, why would Brian mind? He cleared his throat. “Those gay brothers he used to work for? He helped with their horses and around the ranch?”

Jim nodded. “Yeah, we met a few times. They were nice, and nuts about Brian.”

Ken smirked.

“No,” Richard said. “Not like that. Purely platonic. They had used to live on Fuller, but they liked the ranch better, so Brian ended up renting the place for very little money. When he landed the job at Ryders, they sold it to him.”

“I used to think the loft was more his style than this here,” Ken nodded at the house. “But now that it’s fully furnished, I have to say – Brian takes his style wherever he goes.”

“I wonder whether Justin will start making changes,” Jim said.

“Why mess with this level of perfection,” Ken shook his head. “That’s a problem Justin will have to face – when we were his age, we were just starting out. We were developing our own likes and dislikes. Justin first moved into a killer loft, and now he moves into a killer mansion. A bit like a roomer. Not much space for discovering what he wants.”

Jim and Richard both sighed. 

“He hasn’t much money,” Jim ventured. “Brian will do his nut if Justin wants to live on what he can make selling drawings via Marjorie.”

“Marjorie is a decent sort, and she’ll ask the right amount for whatever she sells,” Ken said. “But if she told Justin it’s enough to make the rent, she’s probably thinking modest one-bedroom apartment, and not mansion Kinney-style.”

“On the other hand, he lived alone in the Big Apple. He should have some ideas of what he likes and how to spend his money,” Jim said.

Ken shook his head. “You reckon? From what I gather, he couldn’t be arsed. The apartment came furnished. He painted a few pictures, and did a couple of tourist-y things. The kid wasted a year pining for Brian.”

Richard smiled. “The miserable pride of the very young. But who knows, maybe Brian’s taste is actually what Justin does like?”

“Here’s hoping. Otherwise he’ll wake up one day and wonder whether he needs green walls in the bedroom.”

“I can see Brian reacting to that,” Ken grinned. “It’ll ruin the ambience.”

“Or Brian will say, heck with it, knock yourself out,” Jim shrugged. “After all, he was willing to marry Justin.”

“Reckon he’s still going to,” Ken wondered.

“No,” Richard shook his head. “No way. Justin didn’t like it when Brian was willing to make changes for him. Now, Brian won’t make allowances. Justin will have to take him as he finds him.”

“Probably healthier in the long run,” Ken nodded. “As long as Justin can understand that Brian doesn’t expect changes from him, either.”

“He’s learning,” Richard said. 

“I hope you’re right,” Jim sighed. “For both their sakes.”

“How is all this affecting Brian,” Ken asked.

Jim shrugged. “I’m having a hard time convincing him to eat and sleep.”

“He should’ve taken that week in Florida we had suggested,” Ken sighed.

Richard shook his head. “I think it was more important he got things settled on the home-front. Once he’s in treatment, he won’t have the energy to sort things.”

“True. Last time was hard on him; I’m hoping that this time it won’t be so bad.”

Ken pointed. “Better hope he doesn’t break his neck first!”

Shane, Judson and Brian came hurtling toward them. Shane had taken Autumn, and neither horse nor rider had their heart in the race. Judson was encouraging Summer, his smile fierce and joyous. For a split-second, Richard saw a Cheyenne in his element; Judson was truly one with the horse, both of them set on overtaking Brian. But Brian and Winter wouldn’t allow it. Brian’s face was intent, eyes wide and fixed on his invisible finish line. The horse was as competitive as his rider, and whenever Summer got close, Winter would increase the distance again with a burst of speed.

“Please tell me he’s not going to jump that hedge,” Ken murmured. “What’s that, five foot?”

“Six, more like,” Richard sighed. “I hate that boy!”

Brian didn’t hesitate, his aid to the horse almost invisible as they easily cleared the hedge. Judson shook his head, but followed. Shane bit his lip, also shook his head and obviously decided to risk his neck as well. Autumn tossed her head in protest, but managed the jump. Just.

At the same time, there came Brian’s yell of victory, and Judson’s laughing protest.


	34. Thirty-Four

Brian, Shane and Judson came back to the house in high spirits, dashing the last few yards to the door and jostling to get inside.

Richard and Ken shared an amused grin, and Jim shook his head. “What now, boys?”

Gleefully slipping into the house first, Brian threw, “Shower!” over his shoulder.

“What he said, we smell of horse,” Judson laughed, pushing Shane back and squeezing in next.

Shane grinned, shook his head and muttered, “Competitive? Nah!”

“You’re dronish because you know Brian will always let you catch up,” Richard grumbled.

“No. I simply prefer to let him set the speed. Other people push him, I won’t,” Shane retorted.

“Good thinking,” Ken said approvingly.

“Yes. I’m not quite as stupid as my father makes me look,” Shane snorted, vanishing into the house.

“You needling him for a reason, Richard,” Ken asked, eyeing him with what Richard thought might be surprise.

“No,” Richard sighed. “He just ticks me off today.”

“His reaction to Justin ticks you off,” Jim surmised correctly. “Let Brian sort it, he won’t thank you for meddling.”

“Too right,” Richard conceded. “Well, I do need a word with Brian. What are you going to do?”

“Find Dave,” Ken said promptly.

“Find Leda, see whether she got any good shots of that race,” Jim smiled. “See you later!”

The two men left together, and Richard slowly made his way into the house, taking their empty glasses into the kitchen where Andrea was busy filling the dishwasher. “Unbelievable, the amount of stuff people forget to bring back down,” she grinned.

“Sorry to add to your workload,” Richard apologized, adding the three glasses to the pile of dishes. “I think there may be some stuff in the library, as well.”

Andrea pointed, “I already checked, thanks. That’s the wine-glasses right there. I’m just a bit worried we’ll run out, Mr. Kinney won’t be happy if that happens.”

“It’s quite the crowd,” Richard nodded. “If you need a hand, just say the word!”

“Oh no, Judge Shea, I couldn’t do that!” Andrea smiled and shook her head. “I’m quite okay; Mr. Kinney set up a schedule that helps me stay on top of things. It’s all going pretty smoothly, actually. Just the dishwasher and the washing machine always seem to take ages when you’re waiting for them. You know what they say about a watched kettle never boiling!”

Richard was about to reply when JR came dashing into the kitchen, hastily rummaged for an Oreo and dashed back out.

“Did she even see us,” Andrea laughed. “Those kids are so adorable!”

Richard smiled. “That they are. Well, I’d better go find Brian.”

“Try his bedroom, I saw him a few moments ago and he was headed for the shower.”

“Thanks, Andrea.” Richard strolled down the corridor and checked his watch. It wouldn’t take Brian long to shower and change. He seemed keen on spending as much time with his friends as possible. Well. He had good reason, didn’t he?

Richard determinedly pushed the thought away and concentrated instead on the painting next to the bedroom door. Not really Brian’s taste, this. Not the right style, and all the wrong colors. Had that painting been there before? He couldn’t remember, but then again, he didn’t normally spend any time outside Brian’s bedroom.

The door opened and Brian stepped through. He grinned. “Heck, not another stalker. I can’t keep up!”

“This painting. Why is it here?”

Brian raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Because of Justin. It’s his, a gift from Jim’s sister. So far, only you and Gus have even noticed the damn thing.”

Richard nodded. “I see.”

“No, athair, I don’t think you do,” Brian shook his head. “I’m trying to tell Justin something. He looks, but he doesn’t see. I need for him to take notice of things; otherwise we’ll end up with endless debates.”

“Discussions are bad?”

“No, not necessarily. But if Justin actually took notice, we could probably avoid a lot of aggravation.”

Richard nodded again, studying the painting once more. Now that he knew it was a Bennett, he knew why he it made him uncomfortable. Adrienne’s work usually did, for some reason.

“Richard,” Brian said patiently. “What?”

“What, what?”

“Come on. You’re not on the qui vive outside my bedroom to discuss the fine arts.”

“True,” Richard sighed. “Mind if we take this upstairs?”

Brian shrugged easily. “Lead the way.”

Richard opened the door to their bedroom to find Carrie sitting in the window, her chin propped on her folded hands. He called this her ‘thinking pose’. Now, what did the wife have on her mind?

Carrie looked across at him, then at Brian. “You want some space, should I leave?”

Brian snorted inelegantly. “He’s only going to tell you anyway, you might as well stay.”

Carrie raised her eyebrows, but before she could say anything, the door opened again and Shane walked in.

Richard frowned. He hadn’t even bothered to knock!

Shane frowned back at him. “Let’s go downstairs. You don’t need this, Brian.”

“I don’t need it,” Brian sounded amused. “Richard does, else he won’t sleep tonight.”

“His problem, not yours,” Shane said calmly.

“Tell me what this is all about,” Carrie demanded.

“Your not-so-honorable husband eavesdropped on Brian, found out something we never wanted him to know in the first place and to top it all off, he now wants to grill Brian about it,” Shane’s frown deepened.

“Richard?” Carrie looked at him expectantly, and Richard realized that particular expression had never yet failed to make him feel like a naughty kid again. And what did Shane mean – we?

“I got stuck,” he said hesitantly.

“Got stuck,” Carrie bristled. “And that will hold up in court, yes?”

“Honestly,” Brian muttered. “Can we talk without y’all squabbling over this? No need to get your panties in a bunch. It’s all in the past, y’know.”

“I don’t know,” Carrie tilted her head, looking at Brian. “Tell me.”

Brian crossed to the window, standing with his back to them.

“Brian. What you said to Gus, about that knot in your stomach when you’re hungry. Why didn’t you ever…” Richard trailed off, not quite certain what he wanted to ask, and how to ask it.

Brian sighed, resting his forehead against the glass. “Carrie. Just so you know. I’m only telling you this because Richard is wondering what you guys ever did to me that I couldn’t confide in you. Thing is, I was working my ass off to hide how bad things really were with Joanie and Jack. It wasn’t about you, it was about me. I was ashamed of them. Still am, as a matter of fact.”

Brian swallowed audibly, and Richard winced in sympathy.

Quietly, Brian continued, “When two adults are on the sauce, and only one of them has a half-regular income, it stands to reason there’s not much money left over for food. They were both drinking like fish after Jackie, and my sister and I had to find sustenance elsewhere. Or go hungry.”

A pause, while Shane crossed the room to stand next to Brian. He glared at them. Richard suppressed a sigh, wondering whether it was an inspired notion to quiz Brian about this right here, right now. And then again – when exactly was the right time for this kind of conversation?

“I was usually okay during the summer. I used to help the neighbors; cut grass, trim hedges, clean gutters, that sort of thing. I got food for us, and a bit of money sometimes. Winter, or long stretches of bad weather – that was another matter.”

Brian’s voice was even, controlled. But there was a reason the boy refused to look at them, Richard knew. He watched Shane’s face instead, knowing that his features were usually a mirror of Brian’s. Shane looked stricken.

Shane stepped closer, hovering protectively. Brian turned his head to look at him, sighed, reached out and put his arm around Shane’s waist from the front.

“Jeez, Shane. That was literally decades ago. Get over it already.”

“You knew,” Richard bristled. “Shane. You knew and didn’t say anything?”

“If I’d ever tattled on Brian, we’d never had had a chance to become friends. Besides, I figured if he’d made it this far, he’d be okay.” Shane sighed, and Brian shook his head.

“I had enough handouts from folks to last me a lifetime,” Brian said softly. “I didn’t want you to think of me as a charity case.”

Exchanging a look with his wife, Richard stated, “We wouldn’t have.”

As if he hadn’t heard, Brian continued, “My mother used to pick up clothes from the thrift store, all the time. Not for herself, or my father. But for us kids. And then somebody would say that their son’s shirt looked so much nicer on me, or that the trousers fit me better. That their girl’s dress was just the right color for my sister. Sometimes, people would drop off stuff at the door, to save Joanie the trip to the store. Today, I know they were trying to be nice. Then, I hated them for it.”

“Some of the kids, they’d make comments when their mothers weren’t around. I knew that some of them… knowing that their clothes would be worn by other people after, some kids… they’d do something to the clothes, mark them, soil them. It got so that I’d make lists of who was wearing what, and some boys’ clothes I absolutely refused to wear. Of course, there was trouble over that, but I didn’t care. In the end, she’d send me to do my own shopping. I couldn’t risk buying something new, even if I had had the money. My father found money on me; he’d take it, saying I’d stolen it from him. I’d go to the other end of town to shop, so at least the kids in the ‘hood wouldn’t recognize their own clothes on me.”

Brian took a deep breath, and Richard realized that he would have to let him tell his tale in his own time. Sometimes, witnesses in the stand coped better without being questioned, and he had come to understand the signs.

“I used to get into fights, because some of them, they’d talk nasty about Jack. You can’t let them get away with bad-mouthing your father, even when you don’t respect him yourself. I lost more respect for him because he put me into that position, where I’d have to defend him even if I secretly agreed that he was a loser and a lazy lout.”

Shane kept his eyes on Brian’s face, pain clearly visible. But it was old pain, Richard saw. And Shane bore the pain readily, proudly. A seal to his connection with Brian, the secrets they shared.

And now he himself had a secret that needed sharing. Only, how to tell that tale? When to tell it? He’d have to speak to Carrie first, Richard decided.

“But Brian,” Carrie sighed. “We are not like that. Weren’t. We wouldn’t have…”

Brian turned, gifted her with a smile. “Carrie, you’re a doll. But what I know now, and what I knew then… or thought I knew? That’s worlds apart, a lifetime apart.”

He turned back to the window, sharing a quick look with Shane. Richard wondered what these looks were saying.

Brian sighed. “So yeah, we went hungry sometimes. We wore second-hand clothes. Most of our toys and a lot of our furniture were second-hand. From that point of view, I thought it was a blessing that we were moving all the time. I could tell myself that I’d never have to see these people again. And every year brought me closer to the moment when I could finally leave my so-called family behind.”

“Things got easier when we got into the Burgh. For one thing, the Irish Catholics kept finding work for Jack, and their bigoted wives kept Joanie company and her in a fairly good mood. I got to know Michael, and there was always food in his house. He once said it was an Italian thing. I guess the alcohol at our place was an Irish thing. I figured the free food was sort of payment for helping him with his homework and for keeping an eye on him. He reminded me of a puppy we once had. Kinda cute, but too dumb to learn even simple tricks. Michael was like that.”

Richard saw Shane’s glare and bit his tongue to stop himself asking what had become of the dog. Was Michael some sort of Ersatz-Jackie? The kid-brother who never got to grow up?

“I knew Shane was sorta stalking me, but I figured he was way out of my league. Besides, with him being president of this and head of that… couldn’t do much with the establishment, even then. So, not really interested in what he wanted.”

Shane snorted and Brian met his eyes with a grin. Shane snorted again, but his face softened.

“Then I got to know Erin in photography classes. She had some great equipment, but I had the better eye. The teacher suggested we do a project together. I was just dying to try her camera, so I agreed. I overheard you answering the phone, Carrie. And I realized that I could learn from you.”

“Back at our place, Jack would answer the phone saying ‘what’, and Joanie would tell the caller to make it snappy because she was doing the laundry or preparing a meal for the family. Or else I’d have to answer, pretending she wasn’t in, or say they had the wrong number. People used to phone about money, all the time. But you, you answered the phone with your name, and you were polite.”

“I knew then that I wanted that for myself – to not be afraid of answering the phone, or the door. No hiding behind the sofa from people wanting money.”

“You’ve achieved that,” Richard said, aware he sounded proud. Well. Seeing how difficult Brian’s early years had been, there was plenty of reason to be proud of what he had accomplished.

He had to wonder though – how much more was there that they didn’t know about Brian? Did they know everything there was to know about their Shane? Had they known everything about Erin?

Brian sighed. “Remember you invited me to stay for supper? I was mortified when I realized what my table manners were like compared to yours.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Carrie said kindly.

“Right. I know I was a galoot, Carrie. And I know you know.” Brian took a deep breath and turned to face them, his expression candid. “I didn’t want to come to you for food. I wanted something from you that I truly couldn’t find anywhere else. Some class. I didn’t know anybody else who had any. Or rather, those who had class wouldn’t have had me in the house. Wouldn’t have let me near their kids. I came from the wrong end of town. I still don’t understand why you didn’t lock up Erin as soon as you clapped eyes on me.”

Startled, Richard laughed. “Brian! You were what, thirteen? Not exactly Casanova, back then. Or Al Capone, either. You were a bit rough around the edges, but trust me to know the difference between rough and rogue.”

Brian shrugged. “I must admit, I had figured that you’d tell Erin to forget about the project. I really didn’t expect you to have me back after that disastrous meal.”

“It wasn’t disastrous,” Carrie shook her head. “Do remember, we had other kids over for meals before you. Some of them had … weren’t quite sure how to handle their silverware. You were watching Erin, learning. Those kids? Showed off their bad manners. So. Brian Kinney over any of them, any day.”

“Glenn Cooper,” Shane said, shuddering dramatically.

“Ugh,” Carrie made a face. “Don’t remind me. Ghastly!”

Brian sniggered. “Glad to see somebody else stood out.”

“He stood out alright,” Shane muttered. “Not in a good way.”

“Did Erin know about all this,” Carrie wondered.

“That girl!” Brian laughed, softly. “Should’ve been in the CIA, or the FBI. You couldn’t hide anything from her!”

Carrie nodded. “The lunch-boxes.”

Brian slanted a look at her. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Lunch-boxes,” Richard repeated.

Carrie shrugged, exchanging a look with Brian. Seeking permission? Brian shrugged.

“Only, your daughter developed an appetite. I was thinking it was odd I couldn’t keep her fed. She was constantly raiding the pantry.”

Brian smiled at Carrie. “She kept telling me I had to help her eat all the stuff you were packing for her, or else she’d be in trouble. You’d have something to say, but she really needed to keep her weight down for sports; and you weren’t to know.”

Carrie shook her head. “Instead of just telling me what was going on. Complaining she suddenly didn’t like the meals the school provided. I thought she was being a typical contrary teenager.”

“It was only after Vic that I found out she’d cottoned on,” Brian said fondly. “Too clever by half, that woman.”

They were silent for a moment, Richard remembering twinkling blue eyes and a mischievous smile. He sighed. “What happened to Jackie,” he asked cautiously.

Brian shot him a look full of hurt surprise. Richard swallowed. He had seen those looks in court, when a witness was confronted with an unexpected question.

Shane pulled Brian closer. “Don’t go there, deartháir. Don’t.”

Brian sighed, and turned back to the window. “Might as well. Before Jackie died, we were sort of floating along as a family. We were never the Waltons, y’know. But we were mostly okay. Jackie, he was… he was adorable. Still only a baby, really. He was four. Made everybody smile. I loved him to bits. He was Jack’s favorite, y’know.”

Brian swallowed, cleared his throat. His voice changed, it became flat and stony.

“He came down with a cold. Sneezing, coughing, sore throat. The works. Jack had work, but still no money for a doctor, though. So it was hot soup, cold drinks and plenty of honey. I was downstairs, getting him some more juice. He shouldn’t have been out of bed, but he was waiting for me, all eager, at the top of the stairs. Maybe if I’d been faster…”

Brian took a deep breath and lowered his head. “He was calling for me. Joanie had a headache that day. She told him to shut up, but he was going on about wanting that drink. I walked out of the kitchen and saw… I saw what happened. She came flying out of the bedroom and gave him an almighty push, yelling for him to shut up. Jack had just come home, he saw it too. Neither of us was fast enough. Jackie came tumbling down the stairs. I knew he was dead before he reached the bottom. I heard… I heard the bones snap.”

Carrie pressed her hand to her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks. Richard tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry.

“Jack was trying to give him the kiss of life. I called an ambulance, but I knew already there was nothing… They came, and declared Jackie dead at the scene. Broken neck. Police turned up. Three of them. Captain and two sergeants. Joanie, she tried to pin it on me. Said I was the one who’d pushed him. Jack – the old coward! said that he’d come through the door to find Jackie at the bottom of the stairs, claimed he hadn’t seen a thing.”

“I was questioned by the Captain. Nice guy, easy-going, big grin, beautiful blue eyes. But there was something about him… something stern. Even if it had occurred to me, I couldn’t have lied to him. I told him exactly what had happened. I knew she hadn’t intended for Jackie to fall. Joanie got like that when she had her headaches; she needed us to be right quiet. They were more like migraines, really, I’m thinking.”

Brian sighed. “Jack was probably afraid they’d arrest the wife, and then where would he be. No way could he have coped with looking after two kids, and trying to hold down a job. And there was nobody to help. I know he had a brother, but they lost touch. Didn’t even turn up for the funeral, as far as I know. Joanie and her sister, they weren’t close either. So, no back-up. He needed for Joanie to stay out of the slammer. Joanie, she was frustrated. Probably thought if she could blame me, I’d end up in foster care or something. She had been giving me the evil eye for quite a while. I guess she had trouble coping with me.”

“After Jackie, they fell apart. I don’t know what came first, the quarrels or the quaffing. I only know they took it out on us. Well, me mostly,” Brian shrugged.

“Brian, I wish you had told us back then,” Carrie said, wiping her eyes. “We would’ve helped!”

Shane shot her an incredulous look. “What, did you want to adopt him? The only help would’ve been to get him out of that house, and that wasn’t in the cards, now was it?”

“Shut it, Shane,” Brian said sternly, glaring at him. Their eyes held for a long moment, and then Shane shut his eyes and shook his head in resignation.

“Again, do remember this is in the past,” Brian stated, turning back to face them. “I didn’t want your help back then, and I don’t want you to start second-guessing yourselves now. If Richard hadn’t overheard me talking with the kids, we’d not be having this conversation in the first place.”

“What do the kids have to do with it,” Carrie sounded puzzled.

“In the stables, I caught JR eating cat food.”

“Everybody says the food looks delicious,” Carrie said hesitantly, obviously waiting for a reaction.

“Dried fish. She’s way too small to get at the tins,” Brian murmured. “God. My daughter was eating dried fish! The stuff is revolting! Even the cats aren’t overly keen.”

“I heard Gus tell the horses he wished he could eat grass,” Carrie ventured. “I thought it was odd.”

Richard saw Brian’s fingers clenching on Shane’s shirt. “The one thing, Shane. The one thing I made them swear to. They broke all their promises. If I believed in the shit, I’d hope they go to hell!”

“Point is that they’re supposed to believe in it, so let’s hope their respective gods reserve a warm place for sinners,” Shane grimaced.

“Meanwhile, my children were living in hell,” Brian sighed. “Gus is already questioning what people tell him. He knows Lindsay would rather tell tall tales than speak the truth. I thought they’d not noticed their clothes didn’t fit, but Gus knew damn well what it meant that JR couldn’t walk in her shoes anymore, and he told me he hated his trousers because they were getting so short. And now I find out they were starving. What good is all the damn money I make if I can’t protect my kids from that?”

“Brian…” Clearly, Shane was at a loss for words. And really, what could you say? Brian’s pain was all too obvious.

“But you are doing something about it,” Carrie said firmly. “Talk to Melanie. She loves the children. I think it’s Lindsay who makes all the trouble.”

“I’m sorting it,” Brian sighed. “But I’m late. Too late. I should’ve seen before…”

Carrie shook her head. “You can’t have it both ways, Brian. If we’re not to blame for missing how many problems you really had, then you can’t blame yourself now. You’re not even in the same country!”

Brian’s face cleared a little.

Carrie got up and hugged him tightly. “I need some time to myself, boys. I want to understand why you felt you couldn’t tell us, and why Shane supported that notion. I’ll talk to you later, yes?”

They all nodded readily, and Carrie left quickly. Richard had the distinct impression she needed a quiet corner to have a good cry.

“I’ve had enough of this as well,” Shane decided. He looked at Brian. “Will you be okay?”

“Definitely,” Brian said reassuringly. “Off you go.”

Shane sighed. “You plan on doing any more grilling, Dad?”

“No,” Richard shook his head. “Go.”

Shane looked at Brian, their eyes held. Shane’s shoulders relaxed and he shrugged. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Brian waited for the door to close behind him and then met his eyes. “Anything else, Richard?”

“A whole host of questions. And comments,” Richard sighed. “But now is not the time. Thank you for telling us this much.”

Brian shrugged. “You’re welcome, I guess.”

“I just want to say – I’m sorry about little Jack, and I’m sorry we were so blind. And I’m insanely proud of you, the man you have become.”

Brian swallowed. “Thanks, athair. I appreciate that.”

Richard got to his feet and pulled Brian into a firm embrace. “One thing, Brian – if you need help. Any help, with anything. This time, you will come to us. Will you promise me that? Please? If not for yourself, for Erin?”

Brian hesitated, but finally returned the hug and murmured. “For Erin. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> athair - (Irish/Gaelic) father  
> deartháir - (Irish/Gaelic) brother


	35. Thirty-Five

Brian came out of the house with Richard, immediately merging with the group around Justin.

Richard poured himself a glass of water and joined Judson and the others. “Has anybody seen Carrie?”

Judson nodded. “She and Mel have taken the kids for a walk.”

“Carrie loves kids. But isn’t JR a little young for walks,” Richard asked.

Judson grinned. “They won’t get far. I told Mel where to go, they’ll find strawberries and can sit in the shade.”

“Nice,” Richard smiled and sat down, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“Is Brian okay,” Tucker asked.

Richard nodded. “Peachy. Getting things sorted out and settled is good for Brian. He hates a mess.”

“So you don’t mind Justin,” Judson asked.

“Why would I mind,” Richard shook his head. “I would have liked to keep you around, though.”

Judson smiled. “Thanks. I’m not going anywhere. I’m close to Brian, and I like your pig-headed son.”

“Which one,” Richard grinned. “They’re both pig-headed.”

Tucker frowned. “I thought you only had one son?”

“I claim Brian as my own,” Richard said easily. “I loved him from the first day we met, and he’s ours as much as Erin and Shane.”

“He’s too good for the Kinney-clan,” Tucker agreed. “And way too good for the Novotnys.”

“It’s a good thing I wasn't here yesterday,” Richard said darkly. “I’m not sure I could have controlled myself as well as Brian did.”

“Brian is pretty amazing,” Tucker grinned.

“Michael deserved more than that one punch,” Judson sighed. “Fuck, I felt like stomping the little shit out of existence.”

“We all did,” Ken said. “I admire Brian’s self-discipline.”

“He always had that,” Richard volunteered. “Even when he was a boy. Brian taught our Erin and Shane about work ethics. He always did his homework, always studied for tests. And he got results! Shane thought that things should be easy, and if they weren’t, he wasn’t interested. Brian taught him to dig in his heels.”

Tucker shook his head. “I spent some time with Debbie and Michael, because Jen kept in touch with Debbie, even after Justin was gone. Debbie kept telling us how wild Brian was, and that he kept Michael from getting decent grades.”

“That’s why Brian finished college, and Michael did not. The woman is stupid,” Richard sighed. “Brian was a straight A student, and he pulled silly little Mikey through. Without Brian, Michael would still be in 7th grade!”

Ken sniggered. “I wish he were!”

They all laughed.

“Brian was wild alright, mind. He had all that energy, and that needed to be expended. Plus a bit of aggression, due to his mindless parents. And of course, he’s got that brilliant head… so school was often boring. Yes, he was wild. And daring! Didn’t think twice about jumping off garage roofs, and our Erin straight after him. Carrie had a fit!”

“I would have liked to see that,” Dave said wistfully.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Judson laughed. “I wouldn't put it past him today, on a dare!”

Richard grinned. “You did miss something there, Dave. Brian was a wild boy, a beautiful wild boy. And yet, there was always that inner strength, and the resolve. He was a great kid, and he grew up into a great man.”

Judson smiled. “I don't really know much about his youth. Tell us a bit more!”

Richard tilted his head. “You want me to tell you about Brian gluing his teacher to the chair? About the day he wanted to blow up the school, and Erin insisted she wanted to test the explosives first? She blew our greenhouse to smithereens!”

Tucker laughed. “I thought Michael persuaded him to leave the school alone?”

“No, that’s Michael’s story. Michael had no influence on Brian whatsoever. Brian just allowed him to think he did.”

“Unfortunately, that changed when they grew up,” Tucker muttered.

Richard shrugged. “Not really. It just looks like it. Michael sometimes said something that Brian was thinking anyway; after all, he got to know Brian pretty well.”

Judson grinned. “So, what did you do when you found out your greenhouse was gone?”

“Nothing,” Richard grinned. “Just a bit of blustering, for the show of it. I was too relieved it was the greenhouse, and not the school. Besides, it was Erin’s idea. Brian was mortified when he found out she’d tested the stuff in our garden!”

“Wasn’t he pleased it worked,” Dave asked.

“I guess he must have been, but he wouldn't have told us,” Richard smiled. “He was terribly upset that he hadn’t managed to keep Erin under control.”

“I thought Erin was keeping Brian in check,” Ken said.

Richard shrugged. “It worked either way. Erin was good for Brian, especially after Vic was born. He practically grew up overnight. And Brian was good for Erin. Erin had a bit of a melancholic disposition, and Brian always managed to pull her out of her slump.”

“Brian can be melancholic, too,” Tucker said.

“Oh sure,” Richard said. “But he doesn’t allow himself to wallow in it for long.”

“So Brian was friends with Erin first,” Ken asked. “What about Shane?”

“Shane desperately wanted to be friends with Brian,” Richard said. “But they didn’t hit it off at first. Brian sort of put up with him because of Erin. Brian always preferred the misfits, the oddballs and rebels. Shane didn’t fit into that category, but our Erin did. Vic was almost two years old, and then something happened between them which brought them close.”

“What happened,” Ken prompted.

Richard shrugged. “We never found out. They won’t talk about it.”

“Shame,” Ken sighed. “Any more wild stories?”

“Plenty,” Richard smirked. “How about when Brian bought potatoes and stuffed them into the exhaust of every single car in the school parking lot?”

Judson laughed. “What happened?”

Richard raised an eyebrow. “That was the problem. Nothing happened. The cars didn’t start up, and the kids who had to use the bus, or got home on foot or by bike were laughing at the ones who owned cars!”

“Ah. A social statement,” Ken smiled.

“Sort of,” Richard grinned. “Apparently, somebody had seen Shane and Brian with Vic in his walker, and made the mistake of cracking a few jokes. Brian never liked it when the joke was on him!”

Ken shook his head. “Did he ever get caught?”

“Of course not,” Richard grinned. “He was far too clever to even draw suspicion. It never occurred to anybody that it might be Brian ‘straight A’ Kinney who put live frogs into the teacher’s coat pockets!”

They all laughed. 

“He didn’t. What good did that do?”

“Well, Dave… they regularly searched the students’ pockets, and Brian didn't like it.”

Dave shook his head, grinning. “I expect he had things to hide.”

“Like what, condoms and lube,” Ken smirked.

Richard sighed. “I wish. Pamphlets against SDI, and the first Gulf war.”

“How old was he,” Ken asked immediately.

“Fifteen,” Richard said. “And they didn’t want political statements at community schools back then.”

“Why frogs,” Dave wanted to know.

“According to Brian – because snakes were harder to come by,” Richard smiled.

Laughing, Tucker asked, “Why were your kids going to community school, if you don’t mind me asking? Surely you could have afforded a private school?”

“Easily,” Richard replied. “But we didn't want them to grow up snobs; and the school was good.”

“Snobs like Justin,” Tucker said.

Richard looked at him. “Justin doesn't come across as snobby. Self-confident, well-mannered, yes, but not snobbish.”

“Debbie’s opinion, not mine,” Tucker said. “Which reminds me, do you think this is the last we’ve seen of them?”

“No,” Dave said instantly. “No way. Debbie will turn up, today or tomorrow, begging Brian for help for her dear boy.”

“Never,” Tucker said. “Surely even she doesn’t have that kind of nerve?”

“That’s exactly the kind of nerve these people have got,” Richard sighed. “I see them in court all the time. Debbie doesn't even realize they did Brian an injustice. All she knows is that Brian is the one to fix her problems, after all, he always has.”

“Has he, really,” Dave asked.

“Sure,” Richard nodded. “Guess who got Mikey his first job? Who kept stuffing money into Mikey’s hands so that he could attend comic cons and buy action figures? Who paid for Mikey’s trip to Mexico? Who helped with the mortgage after Debbie and her brother went to Italy and overspent? Who kept Mikey’s comic shop afloat? Who made Rage so successful? Brian, Brian and Brian.”

“Who advised Doctor David on how to handle Mikey,” Ben said, sitting in the grass with his lemonade. “Who lent Mikey his clothes, his car, and his ear? Who kept Mikey on the straight and narrow, and who looked after Mikey’s friends? Brian, of course. Michael is a parasite.”

“Ben. How are you doing?”

“Thanks, I’m okay, Richard. Took me a few hours to get over yesterday’s revelations, but I already knew that I was leaving Michael as soon as it was out in the open that he was cheating on me. Add the theft, and that was that. Just need to get my head around moving house and not growing old with scary Debbie as my mother-in-law.”

Richard shook his head. “Lucky you guessed.”

Ben shrugged. “I didn't, actually. Brian tipped me off.”

“That’s unusual,” Richard said.

“Yes, and I appreciate that the decision wasn't easy for Brian.”

“What do we do if Debbie does turn up,” Tucker asked. “Brian doesn’t need any more shit.”

Richard sighed heavily. “What with Claire and the boys, there’s plenty more shit coming his way. With Debbie, I suggest we play it by ear. I’m sure Justin will have something to say!”

Tucker grinned. “You can bet on that. He's very protective of Brian.”

“Always has been,” Ben said. “Now that most of the evil influence is gone, they have a real chance to get it right.”

Judson jutted his chin in the direction of the patio, where Brian and Justin stood close together, lost in each other’s eyes. The three women looked at them with indulgent smiles.

“Urd, Werdande, and Skuld? The Norns?“

“What, you mean past, present and future? The Wyrd Sisters?”

Richard shook his head. “A word of warning, Ken, Dave. Don’t let Leda hear that you’re calling her weird.”

Both men grinned. 

“We’re careful who we’re calling weird around here,” Ken assured.

Richard rose. “I need to find Shane and have a word with him.”

“Try the stables,” Judson suggested. “He went back there earlier.”

“More interesting times ahead,” Ken mused, watching Richard walk away.

“Afraid so,” Judson sighed.


	36. Thirty-Six

Brian kissed Justin, and then brushed his thumb across his lips, as though he wanted to rub the kiss into his skin. Justin smiled, compressing his lips for a second.

Jennifer sighed to herself. Justin was really laying it on thick. She’d have to talk to him about it. Now was not a good time, Andrea was already setting the table for lunch. She’d have to catch him later. It wouldn't do for him to drag Brian into town again, expecting him to pay for a hotel.

Quite ridiculous really that Justin obviously refused to sleep in Judson’s bed. Did he have any idea how many men had passed through Brian’s bed at the loft? 

She smiled ruefully. Justin probably had a far better idea than she did.

Molly shook her head at her. “Leave them to it,” she whispered. “They don’t want to hear it.”

Jennifer raised her eyebrows. “Thanks. Who asked for your opinion?”

“Fine,” Molly shrugged. “Fall out with Brian, and good luck to you. Do you really think he’ll take your side against Justin?”

“What do you know about it,” Jennifer sighed. “You’re a little too young to get involved.”

Molly narrowed her eyes, and Jennifer was reminded again that she wasn’t a little girl anymore. “I’m old enough to see when somebody has what they want. Brian does, and so does Justin. Can’t you give them a bit of peace to enjoy it? If they split up again next month, it’s just too bad. Right now, they're happy. And right now is what counts. You can drop dead tomorrow, but at least you’ve had today.”

“What makes you so wise,” Jennifer said, annoyed. Her Molly was beginning to sound like an adult.

“I’m not going to have an argument with you, not here,” Molly stated categorically. “Enough people fight on Brian’s turf, I’m not going to be one of them.”

Molly stalked away, sitting down next to Leda and Daphne, who welcomed her with a smile.

Jennifer sighed.

Ken pulled up a chair and sat next to her. “Jen. We all want to protect Brian. He’s made his choice. I thought you promised Judson you’d support him?”

Jennifer managed a smile. “I know. I do think Brian made the wrong choice, though. I wish he’d stayed with Judson.”

“Then you’ll have to find it in you to support the wrong choice,” Ken said softly. “Brian usually knows what he’s doing. I think after Ethan, he went into this with open eyes. He knows Justin has the capacity to hurt him. Apparently, Justin also has what it takes to make him happy, on several levels.”

“I’m still worried. Brian ends up paying.”

“What does that make me, Justin’s john or his sugar-daddy,” Brian asked icily.

Jennifer jumped, and Ken flinched. They hadn’t noticed Brian now stood close enough to overhear their conversation. Jennifer saw Molly shake her head.

Reluctantly, Jennifer met Brian's eyes. She had seen that kind of steel in his eyes before, when he said Craig didn't love Justin, he hated him.

“Look, Brian, I didn’t mean…”

“I don’t care. Keep your opinions to yourself,” Brian turned on his heel and went to meet the kids, who came around the corner with Mel and Carrie. 

The women were talking animatedly, and the kids were chatting to each other.

Both children were grubby, their mouths smeared with fruit juice, their clothes covered in leaves and bits of soil.

Brian grinned. “I’m not going to feed anybody who looks like that. You guys need a shower!”

Gus grinned back, looking very much like his father. “We had fun, Daddy!”

“That’s great,” Brian said earnestly, and then he winked. “I bet you ate so many strawberries you can’t fit lunch in.”

“Ravenous,” JR giggled. “Still ravenous. And voracious! Roar!”

“Clever, JR, you remembered the words!” Brian took a quick step back. “You’re a bear, aren’t you? Are you going to eat me?”

JR shook her head, beaming up at Brian. “Not eat you, no. Kiss you!” She held her arms out to Brian, and Jennifer was surprised that he lifted the dirty little girl into his arms without hesitation.

JR pressed several damp kisses to his cheek, and left sticky red marks. “Love you,” she smiled. “So much!”

“Love you too,” Brian returned the smile. “Mhh, those were sweet kisses! Can I have another one?”

“Lots,” JR said, kissing Brian again and again.

Mel shook her head, smiling. “Give her here; she really does need a shower. Oh, shame. Look, JR, you made dada all dirty!”

Brian shrugged. “Doesn't matter. I’ll jump in the shower with Gus.”

Gus beamed at his father. “That’s fun! Water fight?”

“Only if you beat me to the shower!”

Gus giggled and ran. 

Brian was about to follow him, when Justin caught his arm. “Hey, you. Thought you could get rid of the evidence, did you? Who of the guys is wearing strawberry lipstick, out with it?”

“Maybe it was a girl,” Molly laughed.

Justin pretended to peer at her. “At least I know it wasn’t you! You’re not wearing any!”

Ken laughed comfortably. “Not to worry, Justin. The lady in question is about knee-high!”

“Oh, that hurts,” Justin pressed a hand to his heart and gave Brian a heartrending look. “You’re making out with a dwarf?”

Brian shook his head, grinning. “You’re nuts, you know that? Let me go, before Gus turns the bathroom into Sea World!”

Justin grinned and gave him a quick kiss, whispering something.

Brian rolled his eyes, but his smile was indulgent.

“What did you say to him,” Leda asked, watching Brian vanish into the house.

“Something he wouldn’t want me to repeat,” Justin smirked.

 

Brian and Gus came back some twenty minutes later, and Gus was sporting red shorts and a green T-shirt with a red car on it. Brian wore white ducks and a navy shirt, and of course looked gorgeous. Shane sighed. It was easy to see why guys fell in love with him.

Gus shot Justin a stern look and shook his head at him.

“Now what did I do,” Justin asked.

“You know what you did,” Gus said firmly. “You mustn’t do that again!”

“Oh, that! I won’t,” Justin said ruefully.

“Do tell, Gus,” Shane smirked. “What did Justin do?”

“I’m not telling you,” Gus said calmly. “It’s none of your business.”

Everybody laughed, and Shane shook his head. “Thanks, Gus. I thought we were friends?”

“We are,” Gus said with a shrug. “But some things are private.”

Richard smiled at the boy. “You’re so much like your dad, it’s incredible.”

Gus beamed. “I want to be like daddy,” he looked up at Brian adoringly.

Brian winked at him. “You’re great the way you are,” he said warmly.

“Yeah,” muttered Lindsay, “a great bother.”

“Gus is no bother,” Brian said sternly. 

He looked at Lindsay with a strange expression, and Shane realized she wore the same clothes as yesterday.

“Are we fresh out of soap,” Brian asked.

“I couldn’t be bothered,” Lindsay said, yawning. “If you must know.”

Brian wrinkled his nose. “You smell like a distillery.”

“Don’t sit next to me then,” Lindsay said, reaching for some bread.

Brian promptly went down the table, taking Gus and Justin with him.

Grinning, Leda left the chair next to Lindsay empty and took the next one over. Molly and Daphne sat with her, and after a moment, Carrie and Richard took the seats opposite. Matt grabbed the chair next to Daphne.

Mel picked up JR and sat with Brian, and Shane motioned for Judson to join them with him. Emmett and Calvin looked around, clearly not sure where to sit. Rolling his eyes, Brian waved them over.

Lindsay frowned at Carrie. “Hi, have we met? I’m Lindsay Peterson.”

“Carrie Shea,” Carrie replied smoothly. “My husband, Richard.”

Lindsay nodded politely. “Shane’s parents, right? I think I saw you at college once or twice.”

Carrie nodded. “That's right. We were sitting together in the theatre when Brian did that amazing play.”

“Thanks, Carrie,” Brian said. “I wanted that to be common knowledge.”

“Brian did a play,” Justin asked eagerly. “You acted? On stage?”

Brian grimaced. “The whole world is a stage, remember?”

Justin smiled. “Tell all.”

“I never tell all, or you'd be in the shit up to your eyeballs,” Brian smirked.

“Don’t be mean, Brian,” Shane winked at Justin. “I have two words for you: video footage!”

“Don't you dare,” Brian said.

“Don't dare me,” Shane replied with a big grin. “I’ve been waiting to find a captive audience for your riveting performances!”

Lindsay grinned. “You were hot, and it can't be worse than those water commercials!”

“That reminds me,” Carrie smiled. “You do look beautiful in those.”

“Just don't watch the TV after 10 pm, Mom, or you’ll have a bit of a shock,” Shane grinned. “There’s one that should be illegal. Probably is, in a few states.”

“Nice of you to tell me,” Richard smiled. “I’ll have to keep the VCR running.”

“Thanks, Shane,” Brian said darkly.

Shane winked at him, and after a moment, Brian relaxed and raised an expressive eyebrow. Shane sighed with relief.

Lindsay yawned again. “Where’s everybody else? Michael, Debbie?”

“Urgent business,” Hunter said, sitting next to Ken. “Justin?”

Justin shook his head, smiling. “We’re good, Hunter.”

Lindsay looked from Justin to Judson to Brian. “And what, you’re fucking Justin again?”

Brian’s lids fluttered. “Pithily phrased, Lindsay. And in front of the kids, too.”

Lindsay shrugged. “You need revolving doors in the bedroom.”

Shane had his eyes on Brian, and saw the tell-tale shadow of pain cross his features before Brian schooled them back to neutral.

“Doesn’t it piss you off,” Lindsay asked, looking at Judson.

“Some of you clearly misunderstand,” Judson said frostily. “I’m the interlude. Justin is the prelude, and the finale. I should like to point out that the three of us are fine with that, and it really is nobody else’s business. Find something else to talk about, we’re getting a bit tired of the subject.”

“Huh,” Lindsay muttered. “I was just asking.”

“I’m glad Debbie is gone,” Gus said. “I don’t like her.”

Lindsay frowned at him. “Why do you say that? Debbie is always so nice to you.”

“She has a loud voice, and she’s stupid,” Gus said serenely.

Lindsay shook her head at Brian. “You made him say that.”

“He did not,” Gus said. “Daddy always tells me to be nice to people.”

“He does,” Judson asked. “Why?”

Gus thought for a moment. “You don’t always know what makes people the way they are. Until you know, and can judge, you should be kind.”

Richard smiled at Brian, looking proud. “You’re a good father.”

“Only he fucks everything that doesn’t run away fast enough,” Lindsay said.

“That’s not true,” Gus said. “You sleep with way more men than my daddy does!”

Mel bit her lip, looking at Brian helplessly. Shane looked at Lindsay, who didn’t even look embarrassed.

“Not the kind of information you share, sonny-boy,” Brian said calmly.

Gus looked at him. “I only share when she says something that’s not true,” he said heatedly. “She lies and lies and lies!”

“Shut up, you little shit,” Lindsay yelled.

Brian’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and Shane had the feeling another confrontation was afoot.

“Don’t tell my son to shut up, and don’t call him names, just because he says something you don’t like,” Brian warned.

“He’s not your son,” Lindsay sputtered. “He’s mine, and Mel’s!”

“If you want to wash dirty laundry, let’s do it inside,” Brian said, getting to his feet.

Shane bit his lip, and caught Justin’s eyes. Brian had hardly touched his food, and he’d only had half a glass of water.

“I’m hungry. I’m not going anywhere,” Lindsay spat.

Brian drew a deep breath, hesitating.

“I think we all know what’s going on,” Richard said, his eyes kind. “You may as well get it over with.”

Brian shrugged. “We’re spoiling everybody’s appetite.”

“No,” Leda said. “Go ahead, clear the air.”

“You stay out of this, you little floozy!”

Leda gave Lindsay a hard stare. “I’ve beat up on folks for less.”

“Cheap threat,” Lindsay said.

“Shut up, Lindsay,” Brian said, evidently having made up his mind. “Let people eat in peace. We’ll talk after.”

Brian sat back down, and Shane realized that Justin had held on to his leg the whole time. They exchanged a look, and Brian’s face cleared a little.

So, Justin did know how to support Brian. Fuck. Would he have what it took to see it through, though?

Eager to put the scene behind them, everybody started to chat, and the meal passed in reasonably good spirits.


	37. Thirty-Seven

After lunch, the group broke up. Most people ambled toward the pool, which promised at least a little relief from the midday heat, but Brian and Justin spread a blanket on the grass, opened a sunshade, and lay down together.

Jennifer watched them settle on their sides, facing each other. She couldn’t see Brian’s face, because he had his back to her, but Justin’s features had softened, a tender smile tugging at his lips. He ran his forefinger across Brian’s skin, whispering something to him.

“Tell me what you like,” Ken bent over her,” I don't think he could fake that look.”

“I’m not saying the feelings aren’t real,” Jennifer sighed. “I doubt they’re deep enough, and strong enough.”

They watched as Justin gently pushed Brian onto his back, leaning over him. He kissed Brian, and Brian’s eyes drifted shut.

“He’s going to prove you wrong,” Dave said confidently. He had an afghan under his arm, and carried some water bottles. “Come on, Ken. Let's get to know Brian's boyfriend.”

They walked over and she heard Ken ask, “Mind if we join you?”

Justin broke the kiss, compressing his lips. His eyes stayed on Brian.

Brian opened his eyes and looked up at Ken. “I object to you joining us. But we don’t mind you spreading your blanket here.”

“The king of innuendo is back again,” Dave groaned, and handed Justin two of the bottles. “Here. We don’t want you to dehydrate.”

Ken spread the blanket, and they sat down, blocking Jennifer’s view. She had the distinct impression they had done that on purpose.

“I’m not sure whether that's gross, or sexy,” Dave laughed after a moment, and Jennifer wondered what Justin had done.

“Sexy,” Molly decided, bringing her own blanket with her. “Can I stay?”

“Just so long as you don’t make eyes at Brian,” Justin warned.

“Funny, Jester. I’ve been making eyes at Brian for over a year, and he never even noticed,” Molly complained.

Brian laughed softly. “Kids your age are invisible.”

“How come Justin wasn’t invisible,” Molly asked. “How did you meet?”

“I went to Liberty Avenue,” Justin said.

“You went there all alone,” Molly squealed.

Justin sighed. “Yeah, well. You were too young to tag along.”

Molly snorted. “Okay. So you went to Liberty. Then what?”

“I bumped into Brian. End of story.”

“Right. If you think we’ll let you get away with that, think again. We want the story, the whole story and nothing but the whole story,” Dave laughed. “Come on, share!”

“Go on,” Brian said, sounding amused. “They won’t leave you alone now.”

Jennifer turned in their direction slightly. Justin had never told her how they had met, and she had been too inhibited to ask Brian.

“Okay,” Justin said, sitting up, smiling down at Brian. “It was a rainy evening in September. I had kissed that girl the week before, and it hadn't done a thing for me, so it sort of confirmed my suspicions that I’m gay. I wanted to test that theory, so I told my mom that I was staying with Daphne, and arranged with Daph to cover for me.”

Charming, Jennifer thought, and wondered how often Justin had done that. Poor Daphne, having to cover for him! The trouble that girl might have gotten into… she shook her head.

“I was at Babylon with the boys, and got bored. We were about to go home,” Brian supplied.

“I talked to this guy about where to go, and he wanted me to go with him. But he kind of creeped me out, so I said no. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t even know whether you could get into any of the clubs without ID,” Justin said.

“So, I was just standing there, trying to make up my mind, and then I saw him. I saw Brian. And I knew immediately I’d go home with him!”

“How did you know that,” Molly asked.

Justin shrugged. “There are some things you just know. Besides, Brian had that look? Like I was lunch? I knew I wouldn't get away from him. Not that I wanted to!”

“What did he look like,” Molly prompted.

“Stunning,” Justin smiled. “Obviously. There were all these guys, and a lot of them were hot. But Brian stood out from the crowd. He was wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, and no jacket. It wasn’t really that warm, that's why I noticed. But the first thing I noticed were his eyes, and those long lashes?”

“I know about the lashes,” Molly sighed. “It’s so not fair for a guy to have them!”

The men laughed, and Jennifer realized that Brian didn’t.

“Anyway, I don’t think Brian was ever invisible,” Dave said. “So what made you notice Justin?”

“He doesn't remember,” Ken laughed.

“Actually, I do,” Brian said softly.

“Share,” Dave said. “Or we’ll tickle you.”

“Huh,” Brian murmured. “That’s a terrible threat. Only, I’m not ticklish.”

“Isn’t he,” Ken asked.

Justin smiled. “Not that I noticed.”

“Is Justin lying?”

“That’s for me to know,” Brian laughed.

“Come on,” Dave prodded. “Tell us why you noticed him.”

From Justin's reaction, Jennifer knew Brian had smiled up at him.

She didn’t really expect Brian to volunteer the information, but after a moment, he spoke.

“It had been raining all day, on and off. It was humid, and one of those nights when you can’t decide whether it’s hot or cold. Babylon had been boring, the wrong music, and all the wrong guys,” Brian said quietly.

“We were about to hop into the Jeep and go home, and I spotted how the mists were swirling down the road, all yellow and orange because of the lights. It looked like a TV commercial from the early 80s, and I was wondering whether you could use that in some way today, without it looking too cheesy.”

“Are you always thinking about work,” Molly interrupted.

“Usually,” Brian admitted. “When I’m not thinking about your brother!”

Justin’s smile widened, and Jennifer sighed. Why was Brian giving him all that ammunition?

“That’s so sweet,” Ken muttered.

Dave added, “And unexpected!”

Brian snorted. “Want the rest of the tale or not?”

“We do, we do,” Dave said immediately. “Go on!”

“Well, what do you know, out of the vapor walks this pretty blond boy, and leans against the damn lamp post like some outdated soda commercial.” 

Brian sat up and draped an arm around Justin's shoulders, pulling him close. Justin put his head on Brian’s shoulder and rubbed his cheek against it.

“So, I go up to him and ask him whether he's had a busy night,” Brian laughed softly. “And he tells me he checked out the bars. Boy-Toy and Meathook, to be precise.”

The three men laughed, Justin grinned sheepishly, and Molly asked,” What's so funny about that?”

“With Justin’s looks, you can only get into Boy-Toy if you actually are somebody’s toy,” Brian explained, sounding amused. “And Meathook – he wouldn't have made it out of there alive, they would’ve torn him to pieces!”

Molly grinned cheekily. “You need to research more, Jester!”

“I knew that about two seconds after I started talking to Brian,” Justin shrugged.

“Clearly, he was sweet and innocent,” Brian smiled. “Obviously, that needed to change.”

“And who better to change it than you,” Ken laughed. “I bet you don't remember what he was wearing!”

“White T-shirt, shirt with blue checks, blue wind-cheater, jeans, sneakers and underwear his mom bought for him,” Brian laughed. “He looked so preppy. Not my type at all, really. I can also tell you that he’s ambidextrous, that he used to like watching TV, play Tombraider, and is allergic to Tylenol and Codeine, which makes him vomit. And he prefers Cheerios to Special K!”

Justin blushed. “Fuck you,” he said without rancor. “And in the morning you pretended you’d forgotten my name!”

“There’s nothing wrong with my memory,” Brian shrugged. “If you don’t remember a trick’s name, it puts them in their place.”

“That’s a rule you should have taught him first,” Ken laughed.

Brian pulled Justin back down with him. “Yeah, well. It worked out okay.”

“So you forgave him for being uncool?”

“He was just a kid, and it was his first time. Temporary uncoolness was to be expected, Ken,” Brian said, sounding amused.

Dave shook his head. “If you’d known then what you know now, would you have taken him home?”

“You're aware that’s a terrible question, aren’t you,” Brian replied. “People always expect you to say yes, and get pissed when you don’t. Having said that – yes. I’d do it all again.”

“That's a lovely thing to say,” Molly said earnestly. “What about you, Justin? Would you do it all again?”

“Knowing what I know now,” Justin asked. 

Molly nodded.

“No. I’d fucking avoid the mistakes I made.”

“Just avoid them this time,” Ken said, taking a deep drink and stretching out.

Dave yawned and followed suit. “Does anybody object to taking a nap? The heat wears me out.”

“Me, too,” Molly said, curling up on her blanket.

They fell silent, and Jennifer leaned back in her deck chair. Brian would do it all again? She shook her head.

She looked around, and realized that almost everybody had given in to the fatigue caused by the midday heat. Shane had been watching the small group, and Jennifer reflected that whenever she looked at him, he seemed to have his eyes on Brian. He met her eyes, shrugged, and moved away in the direction of the stables. After a moment, she spotted Richard saying something to Carrie and then following his son.

Lindsay sat alone at a table, a bottle of Jack Daniels in front of her. The bottle was almost full, Jennifer saw.

For a moment, she contemplated going over to talk with Lindsay, but she didn't really have anything to say to her.

Suppressing a yawn, Jennifer settled down, and slowly closed her eyes.


	38. Thirty-Eight

“Shane.”

Shane turned to his father’s voice. “Hi Dad. Still mad at me?”

“I’m not mad, I’m disappointed,” Richard replied. “And I’m sad you didn’t tell us about what Brian went through.”

“Looking back, yes. If we’d told you, you might have been able to make Brian’s life a bit easier. But back then, I couldn’t. Kids can be fucking stupid. Erin and I, we never knew what it was like to go hungry for days on end. We really thought it was enough to share our lunch and have Debbie feed him after school.” Shane heaved a sigh. “It was Erin who found out about Bri, don’t ask me how. She made me swear not to tell you. Also, I figured that if Brian ever discovered I’d talked out of turn, he’d never let me near him.”

“Why was it so important to become friends with Brian? It’s not as if you had no friends at the time.”

“Compared to Brian, they were boring. They never had any outrageous ideas, never did anything unusual. The establishment, as Brian said.” Shane snorted a laugh. “Brian was exciting. Exotic. Erin and I both felt the pull.”

“I know that,” Richard nodded. “But still. You kept at it, even when Brian made it clear he wasn’t interested in your friendship.”

“I was dead jealous of Erin. They shared something, something that Brian never shared with anybody else.”

“Not even Justin?”

“Not even Justin.” Shane shrugged. “I keep telling Brian that the kid isn’t in his league.”

Richard shook his head. “You’re in no position to judge. Brian has a much clearer idea of what he wants than you give him credit for.”

“I know what he wants,” Shane said impatiently. “He wants Justin back. Now that he's got him, what?”

“Well, what?” Richard asked calmly.

Shane sighed. He hated it when his father was all calm and reasonable, especially with his own temper flaring.

“Dad. Justin doesn't know about Brian. It’s bound to throw a spanner in the works.”

Richard sighed and sat on a bale of hay. “You’re still jealous. First Erin, now Justin. What are you so afraid of? Brian will always need you.”

Shane sank down next to his father. “When Justin is around, Brian doesn’t need anybody or anything else. He’d live under a bridge and beg for his bread if that made Justin happy.”

Richard laughed softly. “I’d do that for your mother. Erin would’ve done it for Brian. Vic and Hunter would do it for each other. Just because you can’t find that feeling in yourself doesn’t mean it’s wrong for everybody else.”

“It's wrong for Brian,” Shane insisted. “Brian is proud, and independent. He isn’t supposed to need anybody!”

“Good heavens. Brian doesn’t need Justin. He wants him. There’s a difference,” Richard sighed. “Listen to yourself, son. You sound like Michael! What’s got into you?”

“I’m terrified,” Shane whispered, feeling cold. “I already lost Erin. I can’t stand to lose Brian.”

“I told you, you're part of Brian’s life. We all are.”

“You don’t understand, Dad,” Shane sighed. “The last two chemos? Brian went for those because we kept at him.”

“Of course he hated the idea. The radiation treatment he had the first time was bad enough, Shane. You have no idea how relieved we were when Brian let Justin in and allowed him to take care of him. What makes you think Justin wouldn’t do it again?”

“That’s exactly it, don’t you see?” Shane drew a shuddering breath. “Judson said that since Friday, Brian is eating more. He’s taking the vitamins Jim gave him, and he’s drinking less alcohol and more water. And now? Jim told him to eat lunch and take a nap after, and that’s what he’s doing.”

“Good. Brian is looking after himself,” Richard said. “Why does that upset you?”

“Fuck, Dad, you’re not listening!” Shane burst out, then took another deep breath. “Because of Justin, Brian has decided that he wants to live. Before, he didn't give a shit.”

Richard was quiet for a long moment, and Shane was beginning to think his father was finally getting his drift.

“You're the one who doesn’t understand, Shane,” Richard said at last.

“Fine, enlighten me,” Shane said, his anger rearing up again.

“After the blast – you ran away. You did exactly what Justin did, and now you’re blaming him for your mistakes. We always see our own flaws best in other people. I should know.” 

Richard sighed again, and Shane was reminded that his father’s profession was often a heavy burden.

“We lost Erin, and somehow, Brian felt we blamed him. I know he blamed himself, and he's still not over Erin. Everybody Brian cared for was in that building, Shane. Have you ever thought how Brian must have felt? Had the bomb been bigger or better placed, the whole structure could have collapsed. Brian would have stood alone. And then you and Justin left, within days of each other.”

“We talked on the phone,” Shane said weakly. “Talk. I always talk to Brian.”

Richard shrugged. “Brian needed somebody to hold him, to tell him that none of this was his fault, and that he was loved. Only, nobody did.”

“Why didn’t you,” Shane challenged.

“Erin,” Richard said. “I had to be with your mother, Shane. She’s my partner. I had hoped my sons would be there for each other. It was too late by the time I realized that you were doing exactly what the other crowd always does – you took Brian for granted, crying on his shoulder about losing your big sister. Did you ever contemplate what her loss meant to Brian?”

Shane felt the shock waves race through his body. “Fuck. You're right, Dad. I didn’t. Brian was so calm, so collected…”

“He was strong for us,” Richard said warmly. “His strength carried us through. But even Brian's strength has limits. He was losing ground when Judson came along, and we have a lot to thank him for. He offered Brian solace, and kept him company.”

“Give me one good reason why Brian would ditch Judson,” Shane sighed.

Richard shrugged. “Brian loves Justin, and that feeling is all-encompassing, and all-exclusive.”

“Judson was just an affair, is that it?”

“No,” Richard said quietly. “Don’t say things like that about Brian. You know very well it’s not true. If Justin hadn’t come back, Brian would have stayed with Judson. He would have been content, and at peace.”

Shane shook his head. “So what does Justin give him that Judson couldn’t?”

“Happiness,” Richard said simply. “Giddiness. The difference between walking and flying.”

“Fuck,” Shane muttered. “You’re saying that Brian saw no point in being alive?”

“If you want to put it that way,” Richard sighed. “Vic is an adult, and Gus was safe with his mothers. Brian must have felt that nobody would miss him.”

“He knows damn well I need him,” Shane said. “He knows you and mom want him.”

Richard rolled his eyes, which he didn’t do very often. The look he gave him was peculiar, a mixture of pity and impatience.

“You're dense, Shane. Brian missed Justin, even with Judson around. You don't stop loving somebody just because they walk away from you.”

“Great. Justin is back, and Brian will go for the fucking therapy, and do as the doctors tell him. What does that mean for the future? When Justin leaves again, Brian will jump off a bridge?”

“I feel sorry for you, son. You’ve never let yourself feel love. You don't know about the joy, the pain and the desperate want. Brian tried to protect himself from that, much as you do still. I have no idea how Justin got under the wire, because both you and Brian had the art of non-commitment perfected.”

“Brian fell for the stupid little trick the moment he saw him,” Shane muttered. “I think the kid did it on purpose. He set up the whole damn scenery, knowing that Brian would fall for it.”

“Fall for what,” Richard asked, sounding surprised.

“He was advertising himself. Justin knows all about selling your goods.”

Richard laughed. “I’m glad you’re not at all paranoid. So Justin waited for a rainy day, when he could be certain that there’d be those attractive swirling mists? He fixed it so that the music at Babylon would suck, and the guys would too? All he had to do was wait for Brian to step out, then walk up the street and bat his lashes at him?”

Shane laughed, mortified. “Right. Sorry, Dad. I got carried away.”

Richard shook his head. “You heard Brian. He’d do it all again.”

“I don’t understand him,” Shane whispered. “I just don’t understand.”

“He’ll take the pain,” Richard said. “He’s a mature man, Shane. Brian has decided that in exchange for the high Justin gives him, he’ll take the nadir. He thinks it’s worth it. Don’t question him again.”

Shane nodded reluctantly. “I’ll do my best to support him.”

“Get rid of your enmity where Justin is concerned,” Richard warned. “Brian won't put up with it.”

“I know,” Shane sighed. “He's been giving me the evil eye.”

“Take heed,” Richard advised. “Brian has enough on his plate already.”

Shane got up. “I guess I need to go act contrite.”

“Don’t act contrite, be contrite,” Richard said a little sharply, getting to his feet as well.

Together, they headed back toward the house, and Shane lightened up when his father put an arm around his shoulder.

 

They spotted Leda and her inevitable camera; she was smiling to herself and humming under her breath.

“Leda and the camera, a marriage made in heaven,” Shane muttered.

Richard shook his head. “People are like that when they love what they're doing. You’ve seen Brian work, you should know.”

Shane watched Leda for a moment; she had taken pictures of everybody, and now approached them, snapping away happily.

“Hi,” she grinned. “I’ve got lots of great photos for the album! Now I’ve got to get Brian and Justin, I left them till last. Have you seen them? They’re so adorable!”

“Adorable,” Richard smiled. “Not a word Brian would appreciate.”

Leda shrugged. “I need to ask Daphne for another word. I can only come up with cute, delectable, endearing and sweet. Brian wouldn’t like any of those!”

Shane grinned. “How about manly. Tough.”

“Doesn't fit,” Leda smiled. “Come and take a look, but be really quiet, I want those shots!”

Shane and Richard stepped closer with her, and Shane sighed.

Brian was on his back, face to his left where Justin was curled into him, his right hand tangled in Justin’s hair. Justin had his head on Brian’s chest, his left hand on Brian’s shoulder. The fingers of his right hand were interlaced with those on Brian's left.

Both men were barefoot, and Brian's white ducks were tight in all the right places. Leda smirked and took a close-up, which forced Shane to suppress a snort.

Justin’s well-shaped butt showed nicely in his jeans, and Leda went down on one knee to get a good picture. “For Brian’s private collection,” she whispered conspiratorially.

Richard shook his head, smiling widely.

Leda took several more pictures, and finally, daringly, bent directly over Brian to get a close-up of his face.

Shane contemplated the scenario. Brian looked peaceful, and his mouth curved up ever so slightly. He hadn’t looked that happy in ages. Shane sighed.

Molly woke up, stretching lazily. She grinned at Leda and shook her head.

Leda shrugged and grinned back.

Ken and Dave woke up as well, yawning and stretching. They sat up and finished the water in their bottles, both making a face at the same time.

Shane grimaced. That water had to be lukewarm by now.

Ken looked at Brian and Justin, then at Dave. Both smiled indulgently.

“They’re so cute,” Ken whispered.

Justin opened his eyes, lids fluttering. He began to smile before he was even properly awake, and Shane felt something in his heart give.

Gently, Justin freed his fingers and brushed Brian’s hair away from his eyes. He seemed completely unaware of his audience.

“Hey,” he murmured. “Wake up. You should have a drink.”

Without opening his eyes, Brian pulled Justin into a long kiss.

Justin surfaced with a very wide smile. “You stay here; I’ll go get you something.”

Brian sighed contentedly and nodded, and Justin moved away from him to get up. 

Coming face to face with the small crowd observing them, he blushed.

“What, Justin,” Brian murmured, apparently sensing his reaction.

Justin bit his lip, and Brian opened his eyes.

“Christ. A hundred points of interest in this place, and you’re watching us? There are horses in the meadow, and ducks on the pond. Go pick some flowers, or something.” Brian jumped to his feet.

“Were you taking photos, Leda?”

Leda nodded. “I was. I thought we wanted to create a photo-album for everybody?”

“Erase the ones of Justin and me,” Brian ordered.

“No can do,” Leda grinned devilishly, holding up her camera. “Those are the old-fashioned rolls of film.”

“And you intend to develop them here in my lab, right?”

“Yeah,” Leda smiled. “Check out the photos before you ditch them. Maybe you’ll want them for your private album.”

After a moment, Brian relaxed his stance and grinned. “Sound advice.”

He put an arm around Justin and surprised Shane by slipping his free arm around his waist. “Let's get a drink, guys.”

He’s asking me to be nice, Shane realized, and was ashamed of himself.

They all fell into step with Brian, and crowded around the bar.

Lindsay was sitting there alone, a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels in front of her.

Shane felt Brian's arm tighten around him, but he said nothing. Still, Shane knew that there’d be a confrontation between these two, and soon.


	39. Thirty-Nine

Molly had collected the bottles, and Ken had brought the blankets with him. He and Brian shook them out, folded them up, and put them away.

Then they all settled around one of the tables scattered around the pool area, enjoying cool drinks and the company. Emmett and Calvin were already there, and Justin noticed Emmett was looking at Brian contemplatively. Now what could Emmett have to think about in connection with Brian? Something to do with Michael? Surely not. So, what?

“What do I do with all that warm water,” Molly asked.

“Pour it in the clematis,” Brian pointed. “They always like some extra.”

Justin sat as close to Brian as he could, without drawing everybody’s attention to them. 

Brian grinned at him and yanked his chair closer. “Kinney’s law, remember?”

Justin laughed and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Forgot.”

“What's Kinney’s law,” Ken asked.

“If you can’t hide it, flaunt it,” Richard smiled.

Ken grinned. “I’ll have to remember that.”

Gus came up to them, sketchpad in hand, and a frown on his face.

Brian smiled at the kid. “Heavy thoughts, sonny-boy?”

Gus grimaced, and then held out his pad for Brian to see. “My horse still looks like a dog.”

“Here, let me help,” Brian said readily, putting his glass down.

Justin pulled up a chair for Gus, and Brian took the pad and a pencil.

With quick strokes, Brian drew a Great Dane, and then a horse.

Justin sighed to himself. Brian had minimalist down pat. It was the same as with his speech. He needed twenty words to say something, and Brian needed only ten.

Brian met his eyes, smiling. Justin had the feeling Brian knew what he was thinking, and Brian proved it by saying, “It’s just a different approach, Justin.”

Ken and Dave exchanged a look, Richard smiled to himself, and Molly looked bewildered.

Brian handed the pad back to Gus. “Can you see the difference between the horse and the dog?”

Gus nodded eagerly. “Yes, now I can. Their feet are different. The horse has a longer nose, and a curved neck. And a longer back and longer legs. A bushier tail, too.”

Brian ruffled his hair. “Good. Give it a try.”

Gus jumped off the chair and knelt in front of it, putting the pad on the chair.

“Ouch,” Brian said. “Here, kneel on the cushion.”

Gus grinned at him. “Thanks, Daddy. That’s better!”

Tongue poking out between his lips, Gus went to work.

Justin smiled to himself. The boy had as little trouble focusing as Brian did.

“How did you teach him,” Richard asked.

“Teach him what,” Brian tilted his head.

“To concentrate like that.”

Brian shrugged. “Like I taught myself. Ignore everything that doesn't have to do with your work.”

“He’s young for that,” Molly commented.

“He is,” Brian agreed. “But it’s easier for him to learn now, rather than wait till he’s your age. It’s already difficult for you.”

Molly nodded, sighing. “You’re right about that. Can you do it, Justin?”

Justin frowned, “Sometimes. When I’m working. But it takes me a while to get into that head-space. I can't go from zero concentration to a hundred percent like Brian can.”

“Did you teach yourself when you were Gus’ age,” Molly wanted to know.

“No,” Brian grimaced. “But it became necessary when we were living in Montreal. The walls in that house were so thin you could hear each other breathe! My sister likes loud music, my mother likes chorales, and my father listened to sports all day. The racket was driving me crazy. I could’ve strangled the lot of them, especially when I was trying to get homework done.”

“I bet,” Molly grinned. “How old were you?”

“Nine,” Brian said. “Ten, tops.”

“And how did you manage to block out the noise?”

“White noise,” Brian grinned.

Molly shook her head. “I don't get you.”

“A teacher told me white noise blocks out all other sound,” Brian explained. “I found something I could listen to without going deaf or dumb, and used that to focus on what I was doing. After a while, I could do it without adding to the cacophony.”

“You haven't had it easy, Ace,” Leda said, helping herself to some juice.

Brian smiled at her. “I got it easy now, Eve.”

“Why are you calling her Eve,” Dave asked, pouring himself another milkshake.

“An abbreviation,” Leda grinned. “For evil ex.”

Dave took a mouthful of his drink and nodded. “And Ace?”

“He is, isn’t he,” Leda shrugged.

“Sure, but there’s more to it than that,” Ken said.

“Short for Anti-Christ,” Brian said.

Ken laughed. “You're not.”

“Am so,” Brian grinned.

Gus held up his pad. “It’s still not right, Daddy.”

Brian pulled Gus into his lap and looked at the pad. “Almost, Gus. See,” he pointed, “You need to elongate that line here, and shorten this. And take another look at the legs, legs aren’t that straight.”

“Never,” Gus asked.

“Not on a living creature,” Brian grinned. “Only on furniture!”

“But not on Chippendale,” Richard smiled.

“Chippendale,” Brian made a face, and Justin grinned, trying to imagine Brian buying Chippendale furniture.

“What’s Chippendale,” Gus asked.

“I’ll show you on the Internet on Wednesday,” Brian promised. “Are you going back to the horse?”

Gus nodded. “I want to get it right!”

“Keep at it. You will,” Brian said encouragingly.

Justin smiled. He loved how Brian made time for his son, without ever giving the impression that the kid was a bother.

“When do you plan on working on that dog food campaign,” Shane asked, eyeing the Great Dane.

Richard leaned forward. “Did you get the one for the cat food, Brian?”

Brian smiled at him. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

Richard leaned back in his chair, smiling widely. “Congratulations, son. Good work! I told you that cat was a winner!”

Brian beamed, and Justin registered that obviously, Richard’s praise counted.

“And one for dog food, or are you just pitching,” Richard asked.

Brian shrugged. “They bought it after seeing the ad for the cat food. I’m waiting for the contract.”

“I want to see the dog ad,” Richard said. “Did I miss an email?”

Brian shook his head. “They bought the cat in the bag. I haven't done the commercial yet!”

Richard stared, and Justin understood that the judge knew quite a bit about Brian’s work. Probably more than he did, which was embarrassing. Justin decided to amend that, as soon as possible. Maybe Daphne would make a little time for him. And Cynthia had said not to be a stranger, hadn't she? He could probably ask her for a few pointers, as well. Just so long as it wasn't about anything Brian-specific...

“I’m impressed,” Richard said. “And while it’s not for me to be proud of your achievements, I am.”

Brian smiled at him. “Thanks, athair. You know that means a lot to me.”

“Do you have any ideas yet,” Judson asked, joining them.

“I always have ideas,” Brian shrugged. “I’ll have to see which one works.”

“Cats all look alike,” Molly ventured. “How are you going to make a dog which appeals to everybody?”

Brian shook his head. “You obviously haven’t met many cats. They don’t all look alike, and there are plenty of different breeds. The trick is not to show a cat, but the essence of cats.”

“So all you need to do is sell essence of dog,” Judson grinned. “Easy!”

Brian smiled at him, that fake smile which vanished immediately. “Funny, Judson. I’ll have to talk to a few dogs first.”

“Don't you know anybody who owns a dog,” Richard asked.

Brian shook his head. “Dogs don’t exactly fit the gay lifestyle. A few guys have cats, but dogs are few and far between. I’ll think of something.”

“Buy your own,” Leda grinned.

“No way,” Brian said instantly.

“Justin always wanted a dog,” Molly offered.

Emmett laughed. “You weren’t playing your cards right, honey. When we first met, Brian would have bought you a dozen dogs!”

“Would not,” Brian said firmly.

“Oho,” Ken laughed. “Give. Why is that?”

Brian met his eyes, and Justin grinned. He was over it.

“Because I was too lazy to pick up my wet towels after a long shift at the diner,” Justin said. “Brian had visions of coming home to find the dog stretched out on his Armani trousers, chewing his Prada loafers!”

“Justin fast asleep in bed, and the dog shit in the corner and puddled on the floor,” Brian added, smiling at him.

“And then Brian would either end up walking the dog, or cleaning up,” Justin grinned.

“Justin won't get out of bed until the very last possible second,” Brian said, “So I’d be the one walking the dog before going to work.”

“And rushing home at lunch, because I’d never make it,” Justin put in. “The dog would chew the furniture, and whine because we’re never home. The neighbors would hate us, and eventually, it would be a case of ‘either the dog or me’!”

Ken laughed. “Right. No dog for you boys!”

“That’s what Brian said,” Justin smiled.

Gus held up his pad for inspection. “Look, Daddy. It looks like a horse now!”

“So it does,” Brian praised. “Well done, Gus!”

“But that’s any old horse,” Gus sighed. “I want it to look like Summer!”

Brian smiled. “That’s more difficult. That’s the difference between drawing any old face and creating a portrait. You need to look at Summer and find out what distinguishes her from all the other horses. Then you need to draw a horse, and put those differences in.”

Gus nodded, pulling his lips into his mouth as Brian often did. “I understand. That will take lots of time. Right now, I need something.”

“What do you need,” Brian asked immediately.

Gus sighed gustily. “I don’t know. I’m not hungry, and I’m not thirsty. It's like an itch on the inside.” Helplessly, he looked up at Brian.

Brian lifted the boy’s chin up and looked into his eyes. Then he smiled. “I think I know what you need!”

Brian got up, and touched Gus on the shoulder. He dashed away, yelling, “You're it! Catch me!”

Giggling, Gus raced after his father.

Richard shook his head, smiling. “Go on, children. Time to play!”

Justin pushed his chair back, and so did Leda. 

Soon, Leda, Molly and the six men were playing tag with Gus, and Carrie joined her husband to watch the fun.


	40. Forty

Mel brought JR over, pouring her some lemonade. She shook her head, smiling. “How old is Brian again?”

“Early twenties,” Carrie laughed. “At best. That reminds me of Erin and Brian with Vic!”

“How old was your daughter when she had her boy,” Melanie asked, watching JR drink thirstily.

“Sixteen,” Carrie sighed. “A bit young, but at least Vic was an adult when she died.”

“I’m sorry,” Melanie said quietly. “So many lives were destroyed in that blast.”

Carrie shook her head. “Erin’s life wasn’t destroyed. It simply ended too soon. But what she gave us will be ours forever. And we’ve got Vic, and Brian!”

Melanie nodded thoughtfully. “Brian is an asset,” she admitted. “I used to be so jealous of him, and his relationship with Lindsay. He never held it against me.”

“Brian doesn’t know how to bear a grudge,” Richard sighed. “Sometimes it would be better for him if he did. And I’m not talking about you, Melanie.”

“Michael,” Melanie guessed.

“Yes,” Richard confirmed. “And his infernal mother!”

Melanie laughed. “I take it you don’t like them.”

“Do you,” Carrie asked.

Melanie shrugged. “Not anymore, no. I can’t believe the things they did to Brian, after all he’s done for them!”

“I want to play,” JR said, longingly watching the others run across the grass.

Richard got up. “Come here, little lady. We’ll play together, shall we?”

JR studied him for a moment, head to one side. “You look nice,” she decided. “And you read us bedtime stories. Gus likes you lots. I’ll play with you!”

Richard winked at Melanie and lifted JR onto his shoulders.

Carrie shook her head with a wide smile and watched them join the game.

Melanie beamed at her, and settled into a chair. “That’s so nice of him. I don't trust myself to run with her in my arms.”

“I know the feeling,” Carrie said. “I used to be terrified when Vic was small. Erin never seemed to have that problem, and Brian certainly didn’t. You should’ve seen the mischief they got into!”

“But I had a great childhood,” a warm voice said behind them. “So much fun! Enough fun for a lifetime. Two lifetimes!”

“Vic!” Carrie jumped up and threw her arms around the tall young man who had stepped up behind them.

“Hi beautiful,” Vic said gently, and hugged her back. Then he held out his hand, “Hi, I’m Vic. You must be Melanie!”

Melanie took the proffered hand and nodded, “How did you guess?”

Hazel eyes dancing, Vic smiled, despite the blond hair looking so much like a younger version of Brian that it took her breath away. “Easy. I’ve met all the other women, and I know Lindsay is a blonde.”

He poured himself a glass of juice and dropped into a chair. “Hot today, isn’t it? Where do they find the energy?” He nodded over at the game of tag that was still in full swing.

Carrie smiled. “You know Brian. Getting rid of the energy is the problem!”

“True,” Vic grinned. “Remember when he outran Shane on the bike?”

“Yes, I remember. I remember Shane complaining about it for weeks!”

Melanie wondered whether Brian had a brother. But surely he would have been at his father’s funeral, wouldn't he?

Vic explained, “Cross-country running. Shane was supposed to help Brian shape up, and then Brian outran the bike! Shane was livid!”

Melanie grinned. “I can imagine. Looks like Brian was in good shape already?”

“Clearly,” Vic laughed.

Carrie got up and started to pour water and orange-juice into some glasses.

“You want help with that,” Melanie offered.

“No, thanks, honey,” Carrie smiled. “Stay put. This isn’t exactly hard work.”

Moments later, the players overran the bar, eagerly grabbing for the glasses Carrie handed out.

“Thirsty,” Gus giggled.

Carrie smiled at him. “So, who won?”

“We all did,” Judson laughed.

“JR won the most,” Gus said generously.

The little girl beamed at him, still clinging to Richard’s neck.

Brian pulled Vic into a fierce embrace. “Hey, Vic. Glad you’re here. Where’s Blake?”

Vic shrugged. “Apartment-hunting, and he wanted to go alone.”

Holding JR tightly, Richard gave Vic a one-armed hug. “Good to see you.”

“Yeah, it's been ages!” Vic laughed. “Since yesterday.”

Melanie’s eyes went from Vic to Brian. Was Vic Brian’s younger brother? From what she knew about Jack, he had been as promiscuous as Brian was.

“Look, Bri. We’re getting those looks again,” Vic grinned at her.

Brian shrugged. “No explanations.”

Justin was looking from Vic to Brian in much the same way she had, Melanie saw. Moments later, Justin's eyes lit with understanding. He had it figured out, Melanie thought.

“Hey hey,” Vic said. “Look at this blond beauty!”

He slipped an arm around Justin's waist, “Let’s go find a room, gorgeous.”

Justin laughed and pushed his arm away. “You need some fifteen years of polish, boy.”

“You can polish me,” Vic fluttered his lashes at him. “I wouldn't mind at all.”

Justin laughed again. “Christ, kid. Ask Brian for a decent pick-up line or two, or you’ll never get laid.”

Brian was watching them with fond amusement, clearly not feeling threatened in the slightest.

“Well, you can teach me all you know,” Vic purred.

“I think he's hitting on your boyfriend, Brian,” Hunter said, taking a glass of water and shaking his head at Ben with a grin.

Brian shrugged. “And he’s singularly successful.”

Melanie noted that Brian did not say he didn’t do boyfriends.

Vic took another step closer to Justin, and looked deeply into his eyes. “Come on, sweetie. Why say no to the experience of a life-time?”

“It might be for you, but what would I get out of it?” Justin rolled his eyes. “Let's not and say we did, eh, Vic?”

Justin sidestepped Vic and wrapped his arms around Brian.

Vic sighed dramatically and frowned at Brian. “You could’ve told me I was too late!”

Brian smiled sardonically. “If you want to make a fool of yourself, I’m not stopping you.”

“Thanks for your loving support,” Vic grumbled.

“Anytime,” Brian shot back.

Gus smiled at Brian. “You knew. How did you know?”

Know what, Melanie wondered. From the looks on some of the faces around her, she guessed others were wondering the same thing.

Brian went down on one knee and smiled at Gus, ruffling the boy’s hair. “You sit still for a long time, and then you need to move. Or you move around a lot, and then it’s time to sit down and relax some.”

Gus nodded. “I’ll remember. Judson says you can dance all night. Don’t you need to rest?”

“Dancing is resting,” Brian grinned. “After a long day at work, I need to move!”

Gus nodded again. “Judson also said you jumped off the garage roof, is that true?”

Brian shot Judson a quick look. “When did you have that informative chat, guys?”

“I’m in trouble,” Judson grinned easily. “We were looking at the horses while you were catching up on your beauty-sleep. May I add that you look stunning?”

Justin laughed and shook his head.

“Subtle, Judson.” Brian turned back to Gus. “Yeah, I did, and you're still not allowed.”

Gus sighed. “But I want to!”

“I bet you do,” Brian grinned. “You can when you’re older.”

“How much older,” Gus said immediately.

“Fifty,” Richard laughed.

“Eighty,” Carrie said.

Brian looked up at them, grinning. “That's a little too harsh. How old were you, Vic?”

“You mean, when I broke my ankle?”

“You were eleven, I know that,” Brian said. “I meant, jumped successfully!”

“Fourteen,” Vic grinned. “After you taught me how to roll.”

“You taught him that,” Carrie said, sounding outraged. “Honestly, Brian! He gave me a heart-attack, you know that?”

“Ouch,” Brian pulled his head in. “You volunteer too much information, Vic!”

“I figured it had to be you who taught him that,” Richard laughed comfortably. “Aren’t you a little old to be jumping off roofs?”

“I had no choice,” Brian grinned. “I was checking on the work the crew had done on the garage, and some unkind person…” – he shot Judson a dirty look – “…took the ladder away. Of course, I could’ve spent the night on the roof, but it was a bit chilly up there.”

“Fuck, Brian, how was I supposed to know that you’d be crawling across the roof in the middle of the night, with just a torch for company?”

Brian grinned. “You exaggerate. It was way before midnight.”

“You jumped in the dark,” Gus said, sounding intrigued.

Brian sighed. “Yes, I did, and no, you can’t. You’ll have to wait, okay?”

“Will you teach me how to roll,” Gus asked.

“Yes,” Brian said adamantly. “Don’t you dare try anything without knowing how to do it right!”

Gus grinned. “I’ll wait. Can I see you jump?”

“Oh no,” Carrie moaned. “You can’t, Gus! I’m too old for this kind of thing!”

“So are you, Bri,” Shane said. “Stay on safe ground.”

Justin just shook his head, laughing. He shot Melanie a quick look, and she returned his smile. They both knew there was no stopping Brian.

Brian shrugged. “I’m not too old, just yet. Anybody else want to give it a go?”

“Yes,” Molly said immediately. “I always wanted to do that!”

“And I want to do it again,” Leda added. “Let’s go!”

The group vanished around the house, laughing and jostling each other.

Richard grinned and went into the house, returning moments later with a video camera. “We have to have that in the collection,” he said.

Carrie sighed at him. “I’m staying here,” she said. “I can’t stand to watch.”

Melanie got to her feet. “I’m afraid I’m deserting you, this I have to see!”

She accompanied Richard to the front of the house, where Brian had already fetched a ladder and was now leaning it against the building. 

Melanie looked up at the roof. “Pretty steep,” she ventured.

“Brian takes calculated risks,” Richard said calmly. “Not to worry.”


	41. Forty-One

Gus held on to Justin’s hand, and Judson had JR in his arms.

Melanie and Richard joined them.

Brian was teaching Molly how to roll. After a few tries, she got the hang of it.

“Brian. You go first,” Vic laughed. “You’re the star of the show!”

Brian shrugged and was up the ladder in no time.

“That man must be closely related to squirrels and mountain-goats,” Melanie muttered enviously. “Is he really the same age as us?”

Richard adjusted his camera, and was in time to catch Brian performing a flying leap. He landed easily, rolled, and stood.

Justin sighed. He wished he had this kind of control over his body.

Judson smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“For,” Justin asked.

“Brian’s having fun,” Judson explained. “It’s been a while.”

“Brian's always having fun,” Justin said.

Judson shook his head. “Not like this. Not wild, uninhibited fun.”

Vic was up the ladder just as quickly, and jumped without hesitation.

Justin grinned. Vic moved with the same confidence that Brian had.

Molly leapt next, beaming when Brian praised her roll. Justin was proud of her, Molly was daring.

Shane refused to jump, but Ken and Dave did. Leda sprang next, twirling in mid-air. Everybody clapped, and Leda laughed. “I felt like the cat on a hot tin roof up there. Dare you, Brian!”

Brian poked out his tongue at her, and went back up on the roof. He stood for a moment, and Justin knew he was judging the space he had.

“Get that camera rolling,” Justin smiled. “This is going to be good!”

“Double dare, Leda!” Brian called, walking back a few paces and then running lightly to the edge of the roof. He propelled himself into the air, and had enough time for a forward roll before landing gracefully on his feet.

Leda shook her head, laughing. “You win, hands down. I’d break my neck if I tried that!”

“Where did you learn to jump like that,” Molly asked, her eyes wide.

Brian grinned. “High school. Swim team.”

“They didn’t teach us stuff like that,” Daphne complained, joining their small group.

Richard shrugged. “They cancelled all that outrageous stuff after teaching Brian and Shane. I still wonder about that.”

Shane smirked. “My lips are sealed.”

Brian shared a look with him, smiling widely. “So are mine.”

More things Shane knew about Brian, and he didn’t. Justin suppressed a sigh.

“Can I jump,” Matt asked.

“Know how to roll,” Brian asked. “I don't want any broken bones!”

Matt nodded. “Sure do.”

“Knock yourself out,” Brian shrugged.

Vic climbed back up, his lower lip between his teeth. “Up the stakes, Brian!”

“Uh-oh,” Richard muttered. “Now we’re in for scary.”

Brian laughed delightedly. “Think you can beat me, sonny-boy?”

Vic grinned down at him. “I’ll give it a go.”

“I’m going to wipe the floor with you,” Brian snorted.

“We’ll see,” Vic smiled.

He put more force into his run than Brian had, soared up and jack-knifed, then twirled before landing.

“The landing was off,” Shane laughed. “Otherwise that was pretty neat. I’ll give it an eight.”

Matt jumped next, just a jump and a roll, and grinned. “I guess I’m out of the competition.”

Brian climbed the ladder, saying, “Step back, guys, I need a bit of room here.”

They all moved back, looking up at Brian, who grinned down at his audience.

He took a short run, took off, rolled backward in the air, and landed easily.

“Fuck,” Vic muttered. “You’re good. I have to come up with something else.”

Molly giggled. “I’ll take another leap while you’re thinking!”

She was about to jump when Jennifer and Tucker walked up to them.

“Please tell me that’s not Molly,” Jennifer sighed.

“It’s not,” Justin grinned. “It's her fearless twin sister.”

Molly ran a few steps and flew off the roof, twirling in the air. She landed close to Brian, who quickly steadied her.

“Good heavens, that could’ve gone so wrong!” Jennifer sighed again. “Does he have to get all my kids into trouble?”

Tucker laughed easily. “They’d get there without his help, I’m sure!”

“Good jump, Molly!” Brian praised.

Molly grinned. “This is great! I could do it all afternoon!”

“Me, too,” Ken said, hopping off the roof, closely followed by Dave.

“I hope you all know that I’m off duty,” Jim laughed, putting an arm around Justin. Justin smiled at him.

“The grass is soft,” Leda said. “And we know what we’re doing.”

She climbed the roof and copied Vic’s jump; her landing was perfect.

“Whoa,” Shane said. “The lady’s got it licked. That was a ten!”

Brian winked at her. “The lady has great control over her body.”

Leda winked back. “Shh, that’s between you and me.”

Justin wondered what that was all about. Surely not?

Vic went up the ladder, did a short run and combined his jack-knife with a backward roll. Everybody whooped.

Vic beamed. “Go on, wipe that floor!”

Brian shrugged nonchalantly, climbed up, ran a pace, did two cartwheels and dived, landing on his hands, finishing with a flip.

There was a short moment of stunned silence, and then all hell broke loose.

Shane pulled Brian into a firm hug. “You jerk. You fucking jerk. You could’ve broken your neck!”

“Could not,” Brian said easily. “I’ve done it before.”

“Where,” Shane demanded.

“When,” Richard asked.

Justin kept quiet; his heart was still in his throat.

Brian disentangled himself, came over, and pulled Justin close. Justin put his arms around Brian’s waist, exhaling.

With a forefinger, Brian tipped up his chin and kissed him, gently. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You could’ve warned me,” Justin said weakly. “That was one hell of a jump, though. Twelve out of ten!”

That was an apology, right? Since when did Brian apologize, for anything?

Brian grinned. “Your garage roof, Richard. With Erin.”

Richard nodded. “It wouldn't be that Erin broke her wrist trying to copy you, would it?”

“No,” Brian said. “I copied Erin! She was the one on the gymnastics team!”

“That girl should’ve been a boy,” Richard sighed.

Brian smiled widely. “Too good to be true, athair!”

“Thanks,” Vic laughed. “Do wipe out my existence, now that you wiped the floor with me.”

Gus giggled. “You didn’t think you could win against daddy, did you?”

Vic shook his head. “Not really, no. But I keep trying!”

“Say, Brian…” Ken said thoughtfully. “How close is the pool?”

“Close enough, I’d say!” Brian said enthusiastically. “Make sure it's empty!”

“I’ll go,” Matt offered. “I need a drink, anyway.”

“Are you going to jump into the pool,” Gus asked.

Brian smiled. “Maybe. I need to check it out first.”

“Can I jump into the pool,” Gus begged. “I jumped into water before, Daddy! You know I did!”

Brian tilted his head. “Let me go and take a look, I’ll tell you when I get back.”

Gus nodded. “Go,” he said eagerly. “Quick! Please go!”

Brian grinned, squeezed Justin and left.

“Did you have to,” Shane looked at Ken, shaking his head. “He doesn't need anybody to give him more wacky ideas!”

Dave grinned. “Not a wacky idea, Shane. We all need an outlet. Don’t be a spoilsport, join in!”

“Safer than car-racing,” Ken said meaningfully.

Shane sighed. “You’ve got a point.”

Brian came back, grinning. “Safe enough, so long as there’s nobody else in the pool.”

Gus looked at him expectantly.

Brian smiled. “Listen up, son. It’s a lot higher than the jumps you’ve taken before. You can give it a go, but we take the first jumps together, okay?”

Gus nodded happily. “I’ll go change!”

Brian watched him run into the house, his expression fond.

“Carrie will have something to say,” Richard warned. “Not to mention the mothers!”

Melanie shrugged. “I’d rather he does his daring-do with Brian.”

Brian raised an eyebrow at her.

Melanie grinned. “Yeah, yeah. It’s true. He’s as bouncy as you are, and it has to come out somehow. At least with you, he’s safe.”

Brian smiled.

“And are you safe,” Justin had to ask.

Brian nodded confidently. “Perfectly safe. It’s only ten meters, tops.”

“High enough,” Justin sighed. “Please tell me you’ve taken jumps like that before!”

Richard laughed. “Not to worry, Justin, he has. He was on the swim team, and they did jumping, too.”

“You’re not jumping off any roofs, Justin,” Shane observed. “How come?”

Justin shrugged, meeting Brian’s eyes. “It took me ages to get my arm back to normal. I’m not about to take any risks now!”

Brian’s expression changed, just slightly, but Justin knew he was pleased.

 

They all filed around the back, and soon, Brian and Gus appeared on the roof. Brian picked up Gus and jumped, breaking the water for Gus and pushing the boy back to the surface immediately.

Gus giggled, and wriggled around in the pool, splashing. “That was fun, so much fun! I’m all here now!”

Brian laughed. “That was the idea. You feel very alive, don't you!”

Gus nodded eagerly. “I do. Again, again!”

Brian smiled. “Come on then.”

Vic jumped next, and Ken and Dave followed. Leda and Molly dived in together, giggling.

Jennifer sighed. Again. She was beginning to get on his nerves.

“She’s having fun,” Justin said in an undertone. “Don't spoil it for her. Please! She looks so happy!”

Jennifer glanced at him, but said nothing.

“I wonder whether Brian knows he’s still wearing ducks and a shirt,” Tucker laughed.

“None of them have changed. Who cares,” Jim grinned. “When you have to jump, you have to jump!”

Brian returned with Gus, and on their way down, Gus was squealing and whooping with joy.

The next time, Brian allowed the boy to leap on his own, and Gus smiled at him adoringly before taking off.

Standing on the roof, Brian clapped when the kid surfaced and Gus beamed up at him. “Love you, Daddy!”

“Love you too, Gus,” Brian grinned. He waited until Gus had climbed out of the pool, then took a header, beautifully extended.

Brian surfaced and shook the water out of his eyes. He smiled at Justin, one of his rare, open-mouthed smiles, and Justin smiled back.

Justin was reminded of other times when Brian had done crazy things. How Brian’s eyes had shone when he took him to school in a car that said ‘faggot’ in bright pink letters! How those eyes had glittered when they put up his anti-Stockwell posters together! And he had positively vibrated with joy the day he opened Kinnetik.

When Brian was bold, he was fiercely alive. It was good to see that smile, and the fire dancing in the hazel eyes.

What did it matter that his own heart was racing, and that he had to close his eyes every time Brian hurled himself into the air?

Brian left the pool and grinned at Shane. “Dare ya!”

Shane sighed. “One jump, Brian. One!”

They came down together, perfectly synchronized. Surfacing, they clapped hands in a High Five, and then swam to the side.

Justin held out his hand to pull Brian out of the pool. “You ought to get changed,” he said softly.

Brian nodded. “I’m beginning to feel the breeze,” he admitted.


	42. Forty-Two

“I see you’re all having fun,” a harsh voice said behind him. Justin frowned and turned to face Debbie. “While my son starves in prison!”

Justin looked up at Brian, in time to see him grimace. “I didn’t know we were starving people in prison. Are we, Richard?”

“No,” Richard said calmly. “We’re not. We’re actually feeding prisoners pretty well, they even get dessert.”

“Their just dessert,” Brian smirked, and Richard shook his head with an indulgent smile.

“Go get dressed, Gus. And dry off properly first!”

Gus nodded and obediently ran into the house.

“Brian. You have to help Michael,” Debbie said decisively. “He needs a lawyer. You owe my kid!”

Brian met her eyes, and now that he knew how to look, Justin saw the anguish. 

“You got that wrong, Debbie,” Brian said calmly. “You guys owe me.”

“I know I owe Justin an apology,” Debbie said reluctantly. “But you?”

Justin drew a deep breath. “Don’t apologize to me,” he said sharply. “I don’t give a fuck what you and your stupid son say about me. Apologize to Brian!”

Debbie shook her head. “Whatever for?”

Justin raised his eyebrows. “For the things Michael said and did.”

“Michael said nothing. He did nothing wrong,” Debbie said defensively.

“He hurt Brian,” Justin insisted. “Don’t fucking tell me you don’t know that!”

Debbie shook her head. “Michael said nothing to hurt Brian.”

Justin bit his lip, trying to control his flaring temper. “Right. You’re sure about that?”

“Yes, Sunshine, I’m sure,” Debbie shot back.

“Sorry, Hunter, Ben,” Justin said, taking a deep breath. “I wish Michael had died when the bomb went off.”

Everybody fell silent.

“Justin!” Jennifer said sharply.

Brian circled his shoulders from behind, pulling him close against his chest. Justin felt the damp clothes pressed against his back, and reminded himself he needed to get Brian into dry clothes, and quickly.

Debbie stepped forward, looking murderous. “How dare you!” She raised her hand, but her wrist was caught by both Judson and Vic.

Belatedly, Justin realized that everybody had crowded around them.

Viciously, Debbie tried to free her hand. Both men held on, looking at her sternly.

“Don’t do that again,” Brian warned. “You don’t get to touch Justin.”

“What, Debbie, did that hurt,” Justin asked coldly. “Michael said the exact same thing to Brian about me. Twice. Apologize!”

Debbie hesitated.

“Forget it, Debbie. You don’t fucking mean it anyway,” Brian scoffed.

“And it didn’t hurt you anyway. Nothing ever touches you,” Debbie narrowed her eyes at Brian. “You think this is amusing, do you? You’re going to let Michael rot in a cell for a few days, and then you’ll get him out. And he’ll be so grateful you can toy with him some more.”

“That’s enough,” Justin said. “All this time, Michael pretended he was Brian's friend.”

“They’ve been friends since High School,” Debbie replied.

“Yeah, and this great friend did whatever he could to keep Justin and Brian apart,” Shane said angrily.

“Of course he didn't,” Debbie shook her head.

“He did. He stole Brian’s mail, and even stopped the emails Justin sent from New York. Michael wants Brian, but he doesn’t want him to be happy.”

“Emails,” Debbie shrugged and looked at Justin. “You could have called, Sunshine.”

Justin shook his head. “I was living on eighteen bucks a week, Debbie. I had no money for phone-calls!”

Brian sighed and pulled him even closer, whispering, “You young fool,” into his ear.

“You want Brian back because he's got money,” Debbie said sharply. “Michael really loves him.”

“I’d normally not answer that,” Brian said icily. “But as you filled Jennifer’s head with your nonsense, I’ll make an exception. Justin is not and has never been after my money.”

“How do you know that, Brian,” Jennifer said weakly.

Justin looked at his mother, bile rising in his throat. Was she really asking that? His own mother? He felt Brian's grip on him tighten. Tucker shook his head at her, clearly exasperated. Justin sighed. Wasn’t anybody who they appeared to be?

“Christ, I hate people,” Brian muttered. “Really, Jennifer? Apart from knowing it in the heart I haven’t got? Debbie. You all knew I lost everything after Stockwell. I maxed out on five gold cards to oust the sucker, and I sold every stick of furniture to cover the cost.”

Justin heard both Judson and Shane draw a deep breath.

“The only one who helped me was Justin. What do you think we were living on when I was out of work?”

Debbie stared at them, incredulous. “Justin wasn’t making enough to keep you.”

Brian snorted. “He did double-shifts. Justin was working his cute ass off for me.”

“Brian…” Richard sighed.

Brian shook his head. “No, athair. I’d still rather starve.” He looked across at Shane. “And that goes for you, too.”

Melanie bit her lip. “I guess I’m a few years late with my apology.”

“I wouldn’t have accepted your help anyway,” Brian said easily. “But Justin was the only one who offered.”

Justin leaned back into Brian's hold.

“You never cashed that check,” Melanie remembered. “You gave it back to Lindsay when you launched Kinnetik.”

“I only accepted that Concerned Citizens check because I wanted the pressure off Justin,” Brian said.

Justin felt Brian rub his cheek in his hair, and sighed.

“Justin knew it was only temporary,” Debbie said. “My Michael would live in a tent with you, Brian.”

Justin shook his head. “I pity you, Debbie. You're living a life full of lies. Michael is like you. Totally narcissistic. You started his life with a lie, and you're probably going to finish it with one.”

“Now, what’s that supposed to mean?” Debbie glared at him.

“You probably meant well, but you still got it all wrong. I know about you changing your name. I know you picked the name of a soldier out of the paper, and I know you bought that Purple Heart. I know that Michael’s father is Divina Devore, the Drag Queen, and that you were never married. I also know that Michael knows better, but agreed to continue living the lie.”

Debbie went white, bringing a hand to her throat. “Sunshine. You went snooping!”

“Did not,” Justin sighed. “Your very own brother told me.”

“Why would Vic do that,” Debbie frowned.

“I asked him that,” Justin said. “I didn’t get it at the time, but now I understand what he meant. He said I needed ammunition to defend Brian.”

Justin could hear Brian swallow, and saw that Vic bit his lip, exchanging a deep look with Richard.

“Brian. You know better. You’re friends!” Debbie pleaded.

“Michael drew high bills on that friendship,” Brian said. “I don’t want anything else to do with him.”

“My kid needs you! You owe him!” Debbie’s voice had risen.

Brian shook his head. “No. I’m through, with you, and with him. If you want him out of the shit, better find yourself a shovel and start digging.”

Justin freed himself and grabbed Brian’s wrist. “Let’s get you some dry clothes.”

“Brian. Justin. You can't just walk away from me,” Debbie said incredulously.

“We can,” Justin said coldly. “Get the hell out of here, and don't fucking come back.”

He turned and drew Brian into the house with him, feeling the shivers run through him.

 

Judson bit his lip. Brian’s face, so determinedly expressionless. Justin, gone white. Both of them hurt. He shook his head at Debbie. “I can’t believe you had the audacity to come here for help.”

“Where else would I go?” Debbie asked belligerently, hands on hips, chin jutting. “Brian put my son in jail, he can fucking get him back out.”

Ben sighed. “Michael belongs in prison, Debbie. Can’t you see? He robbed the loft, and he sold stolen goods. Don’t you get it? He stole from Brian! He stole money from Hunter. He stole from me. Not to mention all the other stuff he said and did. I'm ashamed, and you should be, too.”

“He’s my son! He might have made a little mistake, but I’m not going to abandon him. Unlike some people I could mention!”

“Whatever,” Ben shook his head. “You’ll never see sense where Michael is concerned.”

“Here,” Melanie grabbed a pen and scribbled a name and a phone-number on a piece of paper. “Tell him I sent you.”

Debbie nodded at her gratefully. “At least you’re decent.”

Melanie studied her for a moment, and then shook her head. “Remember when everybody was fighting over JR? You came to visit, and you helped me, but you said you weren’t doing it for me, you were doing it for my daughter.”

Judson bit his lip. These people had hearts of stone. How had Brian not seen that?

Melanie gestured at the piece of paper Debbie clutched. “I’m doing that for JR. Now we’re even.”

She turned and walked into the house.

“I think it’s best you left now,” Judson said more calmly than he actually felt. “I hope your transport is waiting?”

Debbie glared at him. “You have no rights here.”

Vic stepped forward. “He does. You don't. Get the fuck out.”

“I’ll walk you to the car,” Richard said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Judson watched as they vanished around the corner of the house and sighed.

“Fat lot of good that did us,” Ken grumbled. “The wicked witch turns up and the lights go out.”

Judson smiled. “I have a feeling Justin knows how to rekindle them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> athair - father (Irish/Gaelic)


	43. Forty-Three

Justin helped Brian peel off the wet clothes, and felt the cool skin under his fingers.

“You shouldn’t have stayed out there,” he scolded. “Now you're cold. Why didn't you just go inside and get changed?”

Brian looked at him, and then reached out to clasp his neck. He pulled him close for a tender kiss, and Justin thought his bones would melt.

“I couldn’t let you do all the spitting and scratching on your own, tomcat,” Brian murmured. “You’re such a fighter!”

“Question, though,” Brian tilted his head. “You just told Debbie you had no money for calls. I know you phoned Lindsay, and Michael. Emmett, even. Care to explain?”

Justin grunted. “What, you think I was about to give them that satisfaction? Michael already knows he threw a spanner in the works, no need to confirm that. He had made it abundantly clear that you’d just hang up on me if I dared contact you.”

Brian shook his head indignantly. “You really don’t know me at all, do you? Did you actually believe his shit? I thought you knew I never gave up on you?”

“I did stand you up in front of the altar,” Justin shrugged.

Brian snorted. “Yeah, right. Don’t flatter yourself, Justin. It was a mutual decision not to go through with it, remember?”

“I know that,” Justin sighed. “Nobody else believed it, though.”

“Justin. This has to stop, agreed? What people think, what they believe – that can’t matter to us. As long as we know what’s going on, as long as we’re honest with each other, that’s what counts. Right?”

Justin nodded readily. “We both have to remember that. We can’t be like Debbie, living a lie.”

“I can’t believe Vic actually told you all that,” Brian frowned.

“Did you know?”

Brian nodded. “When Debbie is drunk and high, she talks. Talks too much. She cried on my shoulder once or twice about how shitty her entire life was.”

“She cried on your shoulder,” Justin repeated, astonished. “I thought she believes you don’t give a shit?”

Brian grinned. “Logic isn’t in her make-up.”

“Clearly,” Justin grumbled. “The nerve!”

“I kind of admire her audacity,” Brian shrugged.

“And you listened. Why did you listen?”

“Information is ammunition,” Brian smirked. “Debbie unhinged, a sight to see.” 

“Why put up with them, Brian? You did see through the masks, I know that from your portraits. Why not ditch them sooner?”

Brian sighed and shrugged. “They need me. I can’t walk away from that.”

“Need? Present tense? Does that mean you will help Michael?” Justin asked in disbelief.

Brian seemed to hesitate. “Not help, no. But…”

Justin shook his head. “You’re not going to press charges, are you?”

Brian met his eyes. “What would Debbie do? He’s all she’s got.”

“Let’s get you into a nice hot shower,” Justin sighed. “I think we need to drop the A in Ace.”

Brian snorted and reached for his waistband. “I’ll have another shower if you join me.”

Justin smiled. “That was the plan all along.”

 

“Don’t put that back on, leave it in the hamper,” Brian said as Justin reached for the dress-shirt he had worn earlier.

Brian pulled an Armani-bag from a shelf and got out a cerulean-colored shirt. “Wear this.”

Brian wore green slacks with a matching embroidered shirt. He added brown loafers and a brown belt with a heavy bronze buckle.

Justin grinned. “You look like one of Robin Hood’s merry men.”

Eyebrow arched, Brian said, “I get to be Robin Hood, if anything.”

“You're too hot for boring old Robin,” Justin said.

“He’s not boring; the newer films just make him look like that. You want to watch the one with Errol Flynn, he’s a terrific Hood!”

Hugging Brian, Justin smiled. “You’re the best, in whatever role you choose to play.”

Brian hugged back, holding tightly. “If you don’t get dressed, you’ll end up in that bed, after all.”

Yeah well. He had known a blowjob wouldn’t hold Brian for long. Justin hesitated, but then gently freed himself. “It's not the bed as such,” he sighed. “It’s the company.”

“Your mother,” Brian guessed correctly.

“All of a sudden, she seems really hostile,” Justin murmured. “She wasn't overly friendly before, but it seems to be getting worse with every day.”

Now Brian sighed as well. “There must be something in the air. Considering I thought this was going to be a week of fun and relaxation!”

Justin leaned into him. “Can I help?”

“You are helping,” Brian said softly. “You dealt with Debbie.”

“I’m your slayer of dragons and witches, remember?”

Brian kissed him, gently. “Get dressed.”

Justin slipped into his jeans, then picked up the silk shirt Brian had given him. It fit. Normally, the sleeves on Brian’s shirts were too long on him.

Justin looked into the mirror. The shirt matched his eyes perfectly. There were tiny twinkling bits of silver material embedded in the collar and cuffs that seemed to make his eyes sparkle.

A gift. 

Birthday? No. Brian still didn’t do birthdays. Christmas? Neither. Brian’s Christmas gifts tended to be whimsical, something you didn’t even know you wanted, and even if you knew, you’d never get it for yourself.

Shit. Justin drew a deep breath.

“When, Brian?”

Brian looked at him in the mirror, but didn’t meet his eyes. “When what, Justin?”

“You had planned to come to New York to see me. When?”

Brian shrugged, stepped closer, and slipped his arms around his waist from behind. He rested his chin on his shoulder, and said quietly, “The weekend after that damn email dropped into my in-box.”

Justin closed his eyes for a long moment, wishing Michael to hell, or someplace worse than that. Michael had known that Brian was on his way to New York. And had made sure Brian never boarded that plane.

If Brian had turned up that weekend, he could’ve come home with him. Would have.

Ten days. Ten days, and Brian had intended to come see him. They had lost a whole year because of Michael.

Brian missed me, Justin realized. He really did.

“Like the shirt,” Brian asked.

“I love it,” Justin said. “You knew I would.”

Brian smiled. “That’s okay then.”

Justin turned in Brian’s arms, returning the hug. “S.O.S.”

“Are you drowning,” Brian snorted.

“I was,” Justin said seriously. “You saved me.”

Brian’s hold tightened. “I’m not quite sure who saved whom,” he whispered. “B. C.”

Justin looked at him. “We’re lucky.”

“I know,” Brian said, taking a deep breath. “Fucking lucky.”

Brian let go of him, opened a drawer, grabbed a pair of cuff links, went into the bathroom, and flushed them down the toilet.

Justin shook his head. “What did you do that for?”

“They were my favorites,” Brian replied, as though that was an explanation.

“Right,” Justin said tentatively. “So why throw them out?”

Brian grinned. “Don’t tempt the gods with good fortune. Part with something you really like and you may appease them.”

“You’ve been reading those German ballads again,” Justin concluded. “I’m not sure Goethe is good for you.”

“Von Goethe,” Brian corrected with a grin. “The man deserves the title. He got it for his writing, after all. Other folks got theirs for the bloody battles they fought. Anyway, the ballad I was referring to was “The Ring of Polycrates”, written by his friend Schiller.”

“Those weren’t real diamonds, were they?”

“No,” Brian scoffed. “I always wear Rhinestone, you know that.”

“Let's get out of here, before you decide to sink more of your fortune.”

Brian grabbed his wrist. “Justin.”

Justin stood still, meeting his eyes.

“Listen to me. Are you listening?” Brian took a deep breath. “Nothing else matters.”

Justin understood perfectly. After all, he had stopped carrying his messenger bag around with him since yesterday.

 

Shane sighed with relief.

The sparkle was back in Brian’s eyes, and he had a spring in his step.

Whatever Debbie had done, Justin had managed to undo the damage. One up for the kid.

His mother smiled at Justin. “Can I steal Brian?”

“No,” Justin said immediately. “But I’ll let you borrow him.”

Carrie laughed. “Thanks, I appreciate the loan.”

“Better return him in the condition I’m handing him over in,” Justin winked.

Jim shook his head. “Don’t get lost in the woods, Brian. You’ll be invisible in that outfit.”

“Can I be the Sheriff of Nottingham,” Shane grinned.

Ken laughed. “Only if I can be Friar Tuck.”

“You’re too thin,” Dave grinned. “We’d have to stuff you first.”

“Oh, darling, you look just like Peter Pan in that,” Emmett said cheerfully. “Justin can be Tinkerbell!”

Justin rolled his eyes and Brian sighed. “Stuff it. I’m going to kill Pierre.”

“Don’t,” Carrie said. “What do they know. You look marvelous.”

“You do,” Judson said. “Just right for a game of Cowboys and Indians!”

“That’s Native Americans to you,” Brian smirked.

Judson dropped into a chair, laughing.

Leda narrowed her eyes, studying Brian speculatively.

“No,” Brian said, meeting her eyes with a steely glare. “The answer is a flat-out, irrevocable no.”

“It fits,” Judson grinned. “And you’re not going to wear that outfit again, I know that!”

“Fits what,” Gus asked.

“A campaign we’re running,” Leda explained.

“You can have the clothes,” Brian said, “But you can’t have me.”

“Come on,” Leda said pleadingly. “You’re perfect for it. Half an hour, tops.”

Carrie put her arm into Brian’s. “Right now, I get to borrow him. You can fight over the leftovers!”

Brian grimaced at Leda, then smiled at Carrie and walked off with her.

Judson snorted. “Help, Justin.”

Justin shook his head. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about. And Brian really doesn’t want to do it.”

“How do you know,” Leda frowned at him.

“When you looked at him like that, he went all rigid,” Justin explained.

“Let’s drop it,” Judson decided. “Shame about the outfit, he does look great in it!”

Shane nodded. “He can get away with that sort of thing. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I started it,” Jim shrugged. “Remember that St. Patrick’s Day in college?”

“How could I ever forget,” Shane said, fluttering his lashes, a hand on his heart. “I fell in love.”

Richard shook his head at him. “It took you all that time?”

Shane smiled at his father affectionately. “I was blind, but then I saw.”

Jim laughed. “That's truly awful, Shane.”

“Now we know why he's not a copywriter,” Daphne grinned.

Shane grinned back at her. “We’re going to miss you terribly.”

Daphne shrugged. “I won’t be gone for long. Just long enough to drop my son, and get used to having him around.”

Melanie laughed. “That might take longer than you think! And then you won't feel like leaving him to the day-care!”

Daphne shook her head. “I’m no Lindsay. Besides, I don't need day-care. I can take him to work with me, Kinnetik has a day nursery!”

“Wow,” Melanie said, sounding impressed. “I didn’t know that.”

Shane shrugged. “Brian creates a terrific work-environment. The only time people leave the agency is when he fires them!”

“Does daddy fire a lot of people,” Gus asked.

Vic shook his head. “He only fires people when they cheat Kinnetik, or when they’re incompetent.”

Gus nodded. “Like Ted?”

Ben frowned at the boy. “How do you know about Ted?”

Gus shrugged. “Daddy told me.”

“When,” Richard wanted to know.

“Last night, before I went to bed,” Gus explained patiently. “I asked him what all the fighting had been about and he told me.”

That explained why it had taken them so long to come upstairs, Shane realized.

Gus looked at Ben. “You can do better than Michael, you know.”

Shane saw Ben’s eyes widen.

“Next time, watch their eyes,” Gus said. “Ask my daddy how to do that. Michael lied a lot.”

He took his sketchpad and pencils and sauntered off.

Shane shook his head. “That kid is so creepy.”

Justin grinned. “Were you creepy, Vic?”

Vic shrugged. “I don’t know, really.”

“He was,” Shane said.

“He wasn't,” Richard smiled.

Justin laughed. “Now I know. Thanks for the clarification!”


	44. Forty-Four

Out of earshot, Carrie smiled at Brian affectionately. “So, son. How are you?”

Brian smiled back, eyes bright. “I’m fine.”

Carrie nodded. “Justin.”

“Justin,” Brian confirmed. He halted his steps. “Carrie. That doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten Erin, or that I ever will.”

Squeezing his arm reassuringly, Carrie resumed walking. “I know, Brian. I think you’re still closer to Erin than the rest of us. Shane had time and distance, and I have Richard. You stayed right in the middle of things. I do wish you had taken that trip abroad straight away! It might have helped.”

“A White Party in Australia didn't hold much appeal after the community got bombed in my own building,” Brian sighed.

“You don’t still feel guilty, now do you?”

“I do, and I always will,” Brian replied softly. “I should’ve upped security.”

Carrie shook her head, sighing. 

Brian fooled so many people into believing he had no emotions. Ridiculous, when his emotions ran so much deeper than those of most other people!

“You tripled security, Brian. If you had had more guards in the place, the guests wouldn’t have had any room!”

Brian shrugged. “I feel there was more I could’ve done, more I should’ve done.”

“No,” Carrie said as adamantly as she could. “More security couldn’t have prevented that bomb. Did it occur to you that the people who organized the party should’ve taken adequate precautions? They knew about the threats they had received, and Ben says that Michael hadn't told you. You found out after the blast.”

“It’s amazing what you find out after,” Brian muttered.

Carrie nodded. “Yes. About that.”

Brian sighed. “Carrie. At the time, it was the right decision. Looking back, I know I could’ve trusted you. Should have, even. But you know how they reacted when you intervened about the booze. Things only got worse. I didn’t want to risk it.”

“Yes. I thought I could speak to Joan, mother to mother. That was a huge mistake.”

“Hardly your fault that neither of them was ever particularly reasonable,” Brian shrugged. “I got out as soon as I could, end of story.”

“Not really,” Carrie sighed. “You still carry it around with you. Some of it.”

“Yes,” Brian admitted. “Then again, we all lug our youth around with us, like it or not. I just hate the thought that JR and Gus already have a burden to bear. I can’t even express how furious I am with Lindsay.”

“You didn’t kill Michael,” Carrie shook her head. “I don’t see you being harder on her than you were on him.”

Brian frowned. “You’re wrong. Michael hurt me, I can deal with that. I’m an adult. Lindsay hurt the children, when she should’ve protected them. That’s unforgiveable.”

“So you’re going to forgive Michael?” Carrie knew she sounded incredulous.

She felt Brian flinch.

“Why give them so much leeway, Brian?”

“For one thing, I thought of them as part of my family,” Brian snorted. “If I had known just how well malicious Michael fits in with my dear mother and sister, I might have dropped him a lot sooner. Or moved him in with them.”

Carrie looked up at him. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“Better late than never,” Brian said. “Then of course, there’s Vic.”

“What does the boy have to do with it,” Carrie asked, surprised.

“Not our Vic,” Brian said. “Debbie’s brother.”

Carrie nodded her understanding. “Yes, of course. You were close.”

“Closer than we ever let on,” Brian said. “Michael feels threatened easily, and Debbie is the jealous type. I owe Vic.”

“I don’t think he saw it as a debt, Brian,” Carrie said gently. “The man loved you.”

Brian took a deep breath. “I’m aware.”

Carrie had seen the way Victor Grassi had looked at Brian. But it was only in his eyes, she was certain he had never breathed a word to anyone. Certainly not to Brian.

“I didn’t know it then,” Brian explained. “I fancied him, but I always assumed I was too young for him. There was always that barrier.”

“That was part of it, that you were so young,” Carrie said. “I also think he regarded you as family, so he wouldn’t have acted on it.”

“Vic was an honorable man,” Brian said. “Without him, it would have taken me so much longer figuring myself out. The only way I can repay him is by doing what I can for his family.”

“He wouldn’t have expected you to,” Carrie repeated.

“It’s what I expect from myself.”

Carrie nodded. “Where does that leave you?”

“Doing my best for Debbie and Michael, without letting them know it’s me doing it,” Brian said instantly.

“And your nephews? Gus?”

Brian grimaced. “I’ve taken care of my sister’s adorable offspring. And Gus is staying in Pittsburgh.”

“I’ll look after him,” Carrie offered.

Brian smiled and squeezed her arm. “Thank you. Vic will help, and Justin, too.”

“Melanie will move back here, right,” Carrie said cautiously.

“She will,” Brian said. “I told her she won’t have trouble finding work, Richard has a few ideas. I’ll always support her and the kids. Jennifer will find housing.”

Carrie smiled at him. “You’ve got all your ducks in a row again.”

“Not quite,” Brian said softly. “Justin. Could you draw him into the family a little?”

“Of course, you know we’ve been wanting to get to know him. What are you going to tell him?”

“Carrie! What do you think? The truth,” Brian said firmly. “Our relationship can’t take any more lies, any more secrets. I just want him to settle back in a little first. He’s not quite sure where he fits in, and Jennifer isn’t helping. Also, we just realized that Michael managed to put his oar in some other way – he told Justin I’d hang up on him if he ever dared call.”

“And the silly boy believed it.”

Brian shrugged. “I told you, he’s insecure. He knew leaving was a mistake, and he felt I had reason to hate him for it. I wish I’d gone to New York that weekend!”

“Yes, but you fell for that email. Michael is disgusting.”

“Yes,” Brian agreed. “Unfortunately, he’s also way craftier than I gave him credit for. We all fell for his fabrications.”

“Poor Justin.”

“I’m waiting for the meltdown, I have to admit. Right now, he seems to be coping, but with his history…”

“You’ll protect him,” Carrie said confidently. “You always have.”

“He’s really not after my money,” Brian said.

Carrie laughed. “I know that. You’re too savvy to fall for that sort!”

Brian grinned. “I guess I am.”

“Besides, I’ve seen the looks he’s giving you when he thinks nobody sees.”

“What kind of looks are those,” Brian asked dubiously.

Carrie smiled. “Try adoring. Lionizing, even.”

Brian shook his head. “I wish I knew why we keep going wrong.”

“You won’t, not this time,” Carrie said firmly. “We won’t let you.”

“I just don't want him to feel alone when I’m away,” Brian said quietly. “I know he’ll have Daphne, Leda and Molly, and maybe his mom. But I think he needs more than that. Jim likes him, and I know he’ll be there for Justin. Judson, I can’t expect him to nurture his successor. I know he would, but that’s definitely asking far too much. The man is generous to a fault, but still. Can’t ask Shane because he’s being an idiot about it right now. I know he’ll come around, but that might take time. I would like for Justin to feel comfortable with you and Richard.”

“Don’t worry,” Carrie assured him. “Richard has taken an instant liking to your pretty paramour, and so have I.”

“Paramour,” Brian snorted. “Don't let him hear that.”

“What do you want us to call him,” Carrie teased. “You don’t do boyfriends, or spouses. And ‘the guy you fuck more than once’ does seem a little long.”

“Carrie!” Brian laughed. “Such language! From you!”

“Well, don’t tell Richard,” Carrie winked. “He’s supposed to think I’m sweet and innocent.”

“What, you’re not?”

Carrie smiled. “Two boys and a tomboy in the house. I guess I’m a little less innocent than Richard likes to believe. So, what do we call Justin?”

Brian thought for a moment. “I know what I call him. I guess you could call him my match.”

“You’re such a romantic,” Carrie giggled. “For me, a match is a short burst of flame that flickers out all too soon.”

Brian grimaced. “Fine. Scratch that. How about… favorite?”

“Brian's favorite,” Carrie nodded. “Justin is bound to love that.”

“Don't tell him,” Brian pleaded. “You wanted to know what to call him. I didn't say you could say it to his face!”

Carrie laughed. “Don’t you worry. We won’t. Unless you misbehave.”

Brian groaned. “I’m busted. I’m so busted.”

 

They returned to the pool area, where everybody had settled down.

Justin was back to drawing something with Gus, talking in low voices, their heads bent over the pad.

Vic and Hunter had somehow managed to curl up on a deck-chair together, and Daphne and Matt sat in the shadow, sipping juice and chatting quietly.

Lindsay was nowhere in sight, but Melanie was playing dolls with JR, and Molly and Leda were both taking pictures.

Ben was shooting the breeze with Jim, and Ken and Dave were in an animated discussion with Richard.

Emmett and Calvin had joined Shane and Judson; they had their heads together, spoke in low voices, and seemed quite serious.

Jennifer was reading a book. Tucker sat next to her, staring into the distance with a blank expression.

“Do you want a drink,” Brian offered.

Carrie nodded. “Please. It's so hot! We’ll have great weather for the party tomorrow!”

“Here’s hoping,” Brian said. “I don’t fancy having that crowd overrun the house!”

Grinning, he poured orange juice for her and guava juice for himself. Looking over at Justin and Gus, he shook his head indulgently. He poured another glass of orange juice, and a glass of water.

Carrie watched with a fond smile as he took the glasses over to where they sat. Brian handed the orange juice to his son and the guava juice to Justin, keeping the water for himself. Both drank thirstily, finishing their glasses in one go.

Carrie caught her husband’s glance, who nodded approvingly, saying something in an undertone to Dave and Ken.

Justin smiled at Brian, and patted the space next to him in invitation.

Brian settled without hesitation, looking at the pad Justin was holding out to him.

“Does this look like Summer,” Justin asked.

Brian shook his head. “You can see for yourself, the markings are wrong.”

“I haven't seen the horses,” Justin said.

Brian downed his water and grabbed Justin's wrist. “Come on, time for you to meet the Four Seasons.”

“The Four Seasons?” Justin grinned at Gus. “Looks like I’m leaving.”

Gus grinned back, his eyes alight. “Can I come?”

“Sure,” Brian said easily. “But no more sugar for the horses!”

Gus pouted. “Carrots?”

“Carrots,” Brian said. “Carrots and pony-nuts are okay.”

Gus smiled and bounced to his feet, dashing into the kitchen and returning with a handful of carrots. 

Carrie shook her head. The kid moved like his father already. He was going to be just as overwhelming as Brian when he grew up.

She watched the three of them walk toward the meadow, Gus skipping ahead. Justin put his arm around Brian’s waist, smiling up at him. Brian returned the smile, and laid his arm across Justin's shoulders.

“They often walk like that,” Hunter grinned at her. “And Brian smiles a lot more when Justin is around.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Leda said, pulling up a chair. “Jeez, it’s hot!”

Molly brought drinks over and sat next to her.

“Do you think Brian likes me only because of Justin,” she asked hesitantly.

“No,” Carrie, Leda, Vic, and Hunter said all at once, and laughed.

“Brian is very, very fond of you,” Carrie said. “He has been praising your work, and he showed us the photos from the awards ceremony and your mom’s wedding, just because you looked so beautiful.”

Molly beamed. “Cool. I love Brian, he’s great! I’d hate to think I’m just a substitute for Justin!”

“There is no substitute for your brother,” Vic smiled at her. “Brian loves Molly, not Justin’s kid sister.”

Molly drew a deep breath. “Thanks, Vic.”

Vic winked. “Thank me again when I start yelling at you about keeping deadlines!”

“Not to worry,” Molly said easily. “Brian showed me how to set up a schedule, and how to make sure I stick to it. That won’t happen again!”

“Shit happens,” Vic said calmly. “And you’re still learning, same as I am. I’m just glad that Shane will help out until Brian comes back in September!”

“That's such a long time,” Molly sighed. “Justin won’t like it!”

Leda shrugged. “It’ll give him time to settle back in, and it’ll give both of them time to figure out where they fit in with each other.”

“Does Justin fit back in, what do you think,” Molly asked. “I don't want Brian to get hurt, but I also want Justin to be okay!”

Carrie smiled. “They both wanted to get back together. They won’t let anybody interfere again!”

“Michael is a horror,” Molly shuddered. “How can you pretend to be somebody’s friend for all this time, and yet be so cruel to them?”

Ken settled in the grass next to them. “Michael had managed to convince himself that he was the only one who knew what Brian needed and wanted. He was the one to give it to him. Justin had it right, both Michael and Debbie are narcissistic. And I do mean in the clinical sense. Narcissism is an illness, and it’s almost impossible to cure.”

“Why is that,” Hunter wanted to know.

“You’d have to convince the patient that you know more than they do, and that you can help them when they can’t help themselves. A narcissistic person doesn't want to hear that, much less believe it!”

“So the very thing that makes them ill prevents their treatment? That’s awful,” Molly said. “It could almost make me feel sorry for them, if they hadn't taken it out on Brian and my big brother.”

Carrie sighed. “Unfortunately, Brian is an almost logical target for such people. He is everything they want to be. He can take criticism, they cannot. He doesn't need other people to reach his goals – Michael couldn’t have done Rage without Justin, and the Red Cape comic shop would’ve been a failure if it hadn’t been for Brian’s marketing strategy and business sense. And Michael pulled Justin into his little fantasy, all about Rage becoming the next Superman.”

“Michael overestimates his importance in Brian's life, and he still has this unrealistic idea that there’s romance in the stars for them,” Dave added.

Ken nodded. “And he’s very, very jealous of everybody Brian even speaks to. He expects Brian to be there for him at the drop of a hat, and I’m waiting for him to wag his tail every time Brian praises him.”

They all laughed.

“It sounds like Brian is doing that on automatic,” Molly observed. “There’s a difference to his voice when he means it, or when he commends Michael.”

Dave shrugged. “Michael thinks he’s entitled to Brian’s accolades, and Brian pats him on the head just to keep him happy. And quiet! When he praises Gus, he means it. Then again, the kid usually has achieved something, whereas dear Mikey is stuck in perpetual reruns!”

“Michael is an attention-seeking little monster, and if you give him the proverbial finger, he’ll grab your arm,” Ken said.

Leda sighed. “I think he grabbed more than just Brian's arm.”

“Lack of empathy is another sign of Narcissistic Personality Disorder,” Ken explained. “In the world of the Novotnys, nobody else is entitled to kindness, or the most basic consideration. Debbie really thought it was quite okay to come here for help! They’re actually quite convinced that Brian has no feelings.”

“I thought Lindsay said Brian took psychology,” Molly frowned.

“He’s got a BA,” Carrie nodded. “Dead useful in his line of work.”

“Then how come he didn't see what Michael is like,” Molly wondered.

“Brian doesn’t want to see the deep dark blackness in the soul of a friend,” Dave said. “He’s one of the most realistic guys I’ve ever met. But I think even Brian shrinks away from taking a good look into the true spirit of the Novotnys!”

“Is that spirit, or sprite,” Vic said. “I think he knew full well. But if he believes somebody can’t get by without him, it doesn’t matter. He’ll stick by you, if you need his help.”

“True,” Ken agreed. “I think he knew they couldn’t be trusted. Which is why he kept his two lives carefully apart. We’ve known Brian for over a year, and this is the first time we met that lot!”

“And the last time, I’d wager,” Vic said. “Enough is enough, even for somebody as generous and forgiving as Brian!”

“Here’s hoping,” Dave sighed. “I have a feeling the last word isn’t spoken.”

Molly shook her head. “He won’t aid them again, will he? He’s too smart for that, surely.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Carrie shrugged. “Brian knows what it’s like to have nobody but yourself to rely on. He’ll do what he can so other people won’t have to go through that.”

“But he’s got us,” Molly insisted. “Surely he doesn’t feel alone now?”

“It's a feeling he grew up with,” Hunter said gently. “You don't get rid of that feeling easily, or just because suddenly you’ve got friends and family surrounding you.”

Molly nodded thoughtfully. “I can understand that. Do you think Justin can protect Brian?”

Vic nodded. “If anybody can, it’s Justin. He’s the only one Brian even lets get that close to him.” 

“If Justin fucks up again, I’ll castrate him,” Molly said darkly.

Leda laughed. “I’ll help!”

“We’ll all help,” Vic snorted. “Your dear big brother won’t get away with it again!”


	45. Forty-Five

They rounded a hedge, and Justin caught his breath.

The scene was begging to be painted. Fresh, fragrant green grass and herbs grew in abundance. Hedges grew on two sides of the pasture, keeping the wind off the horses. Several large trees provided shade, and a lean-to offered protection from rain. Four horses grazed in the field, tails flicking. They had access to a portion of the river – not so much that the field would become muddy, but enough to guarantee a constant supply of fresh water.

Justin sighed. He remembered describing which horses he wanted, and what he wanted their space to look like. 

Brian had been quiet, holding him close in the aftermath of a marathon sex session – correct that, it was after the bomb, and Justin thought he had the right to call it making love then.

Justin remembered how Brian's gentle fingers had caressed his back in idle circles, and he remembered that underneath the mixture of musk and sweat, there had been a trace of Bulgari lingering on Brian’s skin.

He had been fairly certain that Brian was almost asleep, and more certain still that Brian was listening to his voice, but not his words.

Well. How often had he been wrong about Brian?

Here they were, the horses of his dreams. He knew that he would probably have named them Vincent, Claude or Pablo. But the Four Seasons – that was cool.

Brian clicked his tongue, and the horses flicked their ears. Another click, and the horses raised their heads, took one look at them and came running.

“They love daddy,” Gus said.

Yes, Justin could see that. As soon as the horses reached the fence, they all tried to get close to Brian.

Brian laughed and swung himself over the fence. All four horses sniffed his face and hair, and rubbed their heads against his shoulders. Brian patted them and murmured under his breath.

Horse whisperer, Justin thought.

Gus frowned up at Justin. “Daddy won’t let me do that,” he said, sighing.

Brian shook his head. “You're too small. They might kick you inadvertently, and I don’t want you to get hurt. Do I have to explain that every time we come here?”

Gus sighed. “I can’t wait to grow!”

Brian grinned. “How about I pick you up?”

Gus nodded eagerly and climbed through the fence. “Aren’t you coming in, Justin,” he asked. “You’re not very tall, but I think you’re big enough!”

Justin hesitated.

“They won’t mind,” Brian said. “They’re perfectly good-natured.”

They would be, Justin mused. Brian wouldn't risk a temperamental horse around the kids.

“Justin, meet the Four Seasons. They’re a mix of Connemara and Irish Draught. The breeds are known for their gentleness, jumping ability and sure-footedness,” Brian explained. “The palomino is Spring, the sorrel is Summer, the blood bay is Autumn, and the albino is Winter.”

Justin looked at Winter, there had been a slight change in Brian’s voice – a quiet pride, and a fondness. Startled, he realized that the horse had hazel eyes, just like Brian.

“Winter is daddy’s favorite,” Gus said, distributing his carrots.

Justin nodded. He had known that from Brian's tone.

“He’s gorgeous, Brian,” he said admiringly. “Just like you!”

Brian picked up Gus and snorted, which made the horses nose him impatiently.

“You’d better hope those pockets of yours are full of pony-nuts,” Brian grinned at Gus. “Or they might just eat you!”

“Silly daddy, I’m not made of grass! They won't eat me. But they’re greedy,” Gus laughed. “A whole meadow full of food, and they want more pony-nuts.”

“They’re animals,” Brian said. “They translate food as affection.”

“I love them all,” Gus declared. “And I brought plenty of pony-nuts!”

Gus handed out treats, and Justin stroked warm necks and admired large dark eyes and silky manes. Firm bodies, smooth, clean coats. Beautiful animals.

“Do they take a lot of work,” Justin asked.

Brian smiled at him. “More than a puppy, I think. But it’s not really work, I enjoy having them.”

“I didn’t even know you liked horses,” Justin said softly.

“I used to look after horses during college,” Brian shrugged. “I’m actually quite fond of them.”

“Who looks after them when you travel,” Justin wanted to know.

“Judson, these days,” Brian said promptly. “But Andrea can handle them, too.”

“Can we check whether Lady had her litter,” Gus asked after a while.

Brian laughed. “Again? For the fourth time today? I told you, it's probably another week or so before she has them. And even then, there’s no guarantee she’ll let us near them before they're weaned!”

“Who is Lady,” Justin asked, intrigued.

“Come and see,” Gus said. “You’ve got to see her. She’s lovely!”

 

They walked toward the stables, and stepped into the dim, moist warmth. After the bright sun outside, their eyes needed a moment to adjust.

A gray cat jumped off a bale of hay and stalked Justin, her tail swishing. Her belly was heavy, and Justin thought he could see the kittens move under her skin.

She had large green eyes and very long whiskers, and suddenly, Justin saw the cat from Brian's commercial.

“That’s her, isn’t it? The beauty from the cat food ad,” he asked.

Brian nodded. “She’s a bit more graceful when she’s not carrying a dozen kittens around!”

“A dozen,” Gus squealed, making the cat jump. “That’s twelve! Do you really think there’ll be that many?”

“No,” Brian shook his head. “Three or four, maybe. I told you, any more than that, and we won’t be able to keep them all!”

Gus nodded. “But we’re always going to keep Lady and Tail, aren’t we?”

“They belong here,” Brian said. “Just like you do. Of course we’ll keep them.”

Justin grinned. “What, you’re a cat lover?”

Gus giggled. “Daddy is a carpet muncher!”

Brian made a choking sound. “Thanks a lot, son. Where did that come from?”

“Mom Mel said that somebody who likes pussy is a cat lover. Justin said they're a carpet muncher. So you must be a carpet muncher,” Gus smiled widely, clearly proud of his reasoning.

“Logical thinking, very good!” Brian praised, and the kid beamed. 

“For the record, a cat lover is an ailurophile,” Brian explained. “Somebody who likes pussy is either a straight guy, or a lesbian. I don’t want to hear anything else from you until you’re at least fifteen, Gus. Understood?”

“I know what you want from me,” Gus pouted. “But not why.”

“The other names are potentially insulting, and you're way too young to insult people.”

“What's potentially,” Gus asked.

“A potential is a possibility, or a capability,” Brian said patiently.

Gus nodded. “Now I understand. I wanted to joke with you, Daddy.”

Brian grinned. “It was a good joke. For a teenager, but not for a little boy like you. I thought you didn’t want to grow up so fast?”

Gus sighed. “I don’t know what’s grown up and what isn’t.”

“Jokes of a sexual nature are adult,” Brian said. “I know you have a hard time with that because you hear a lot of them. Some of my friends try to be careful around you, but they don't all manage. So, ask me before you go repeating things? Then you’ll be on the safe side.”

“Like with the butt plug,” Gus asked.

Brian nodded. “Yes, that’s right. See, you’re a bright boy. Trust your instincts. If you think, ‘Jennifer will have eyes as big as saucers’ if you say something, it's probably better not to say it at all.”

Gus grinned wickedly. “Did you see her face, Daddy?”

“I did,” Brian said. “I don't think I enjoyed it.”

“Why not?”

“Didn't you hear what Debbie said? That I have a filthy mouth? I bet a lot of other people think so when they hear you say things like that.”

Gus held out his arms, and Brian picked him up, holding him tightly. Gus wound his arms around Brian's neck.

“I love you Daddy. I’ll watch what I’m saying,” Gus promised. “I want everybody to know you’re a great dad!”

“Just so long as you think that,” Brian said softly. “What you think is what counts.”

Justin smiled to himself. Had Brian repeated his maxim about not caring what other people thought, he would have undone a lot of hard work.

Gus kissed Brian on the cheek. “Put me down, Daddy? I need to go and think about what you said.”

Brian complied and watched as the kid skipped away.

“Huh,” he murmured. “I’d rather deal with horses and cats and fussy clients than with him. He’s so sharp, he’ll end up cutting himself one of these days.”

Justin giggled. “It was a great joke, though.”

“Yes, and if you try and dine out on it, I’ll rip your balls off with my teeth.”

“I love your teeth on my balls,” Justin smirked. “Anytime, stud.”

Brian rolled his eyes, but laughed. “Here, meet Tail.”

“That’s an odd name,” Justin commented.

Then he caught sight of the cat and thought the name fit. The cat had a very long, very mobile tail, and was winding around Brian's legs.

“Gus named them,” Brian said.

“Is he hungry,” Justin wondered.

Brian shook his head and lifted the cat into his arms. “Andrea puts canned food down for them before she even comes in the house,” he explained. “And there’s always a big dish with dried food for them. Besides, they’re here to catch mice, really.”

“So, he just wants a hug?”

Brian shrugged. “They were here from the beginning, and I thought they’d be good to have around. Horses are bound to attract mice and rats.”

Justin shook his head, smiling. “Translation from Brianese into English: I didn’t have the heart to turn them out.”

Brian frowned at him and settled the cat in his basket. “Don't think I’ve gone soft, Justin.”

“I don’t think that,” Justin smiled indulgently. “You’ve always been soft, Brian.”

“I’m soft?” Brian arched an eyebrow and took a threatening step toward him. “You want to repeat that?”

Justin did, and they fought a mock battle, which ended with both of them covered in bits of hay and straw, and Justin sneezing his head off.

Brian pulled him out of the stables and toward the house. “Did you bring your allergy meds?”

“In the bathroom,” Justin wheezed.

“Are you allergic to cats, or horses?”

Justin shook his head, sneezing again. “Just hay and stuff.”

“You’re not to feed the horses,” Brian decided. “Let’s go find that nose-spray and your pills!”

 

“Fooling around in the hay,” Ken grinned. “That’s not very Brian!”

“Messing,” Vic said,” but not fooling. He’d never do that.”

Carrie smiled to herself, it was lovely to see Brian so relaxed and open. Relaxed enough to let them see him with bits of hay in his hair, and straw clinging to his clothes.

“And that, as they say, is that,” Judson grinned. “The last time we have seen that particular outfit on Brian, folks.”

“He could just brush the stuff off,” Molly said dubiously.

Dave laughed. “Want to bet? He’ll change.”

“He’ll have another shower,” Ken smirked. “After all, he has to make sure Justin gets rid of all the hay properly.”

“Yeah, and Justin will put that shirt back on.”

Hunter shook his head at his partner. “What makes you say that?”

Vic grinned. “Wait and see.”


	46. Forty-Six

They were back some fifteen minutes later, and Carrie groaned softly. Brian was wearing jeans and a red shirt, and Justin wore the same clothes as he had earlier, only they were clean again. Their hair was damp, and Justin was trying hard not to smile.

Brian met her eyes and shrugged a little self-consciously. 

Carrie felt her smile widen. Brian and self-conscious, that was new. More proof that Justin meant so much.

She saw a woman with two boys in tow walk toward them, and bit her lip when she recognized Brian's sister.

“At least you’re easy to spot,” Claire said venomously. “You look like a bottle of catsup.”

Her sons snickered maliciously.

Brian turned; the movement smooth, deliberate, and controlled.

Oh dear, Carrie thought. Brian in full battle-mode.

“Claire. What an utterly unpleasant surprise.” Brian smiled that fake smile, the one that just showed his nice teeth for a moment.

“Gus, please take your sister around the back. Stay in the playground until we call you.”

Gus nodded and took JR’s hand, “Can we take some peaches, please?”

Brian smiled at the children, a real smile this time, one that reached his eyes. “You know you don’t have to ask, help yourselves.”

“You,” Brian nodded at his nephews. “Put your hands in your pockets and keep them there. Please keep an eye on them, Shane, these guys have nimble fingers.”

Shane nodded, his face stern. Judson joined him; they stood behind the boys, hands on their shoulders. The kids turned, looked up into the impassive faces of the two tall men, and looked at their mother.

“Mom,” the larger boy said. “Uncle’s treating us like criminals.”

Brian gave him a cold, hard stare. “Don’t fuss. You’re used to it.”

Brian glanced at his sister. “What brings you?”

“You know damn well what brings me, Brian Aristide Kinney!”

Brian crossed his arms in an uncharacteristic gesture. 

Aristide, Claire thought, trying to remember her Greek. Son… son of the best? Small wonder Brian loathed his middle name, and always refused to divulge it.

Justin had his eyes on Brian, warm understanding evident in the clear blue. He stood closer to Brian, half a step behind him.

“I guess I should have expected to see you again,” Claire spat at Justin.

Justin bowed mockingly. “The displeasure is all mine, Ma’am,” he said politely.

“Come inside, Claire,” Brian said. “We’ll discuss it there.”

Claire shook her head vehemently. “Oh no, you don't. I want witnesses for this! I want your friends to know what a heartless bastard you are.”

Brian smirked. “Now, now, Claire. You're the bastard, remember? By the time I came along, Jack and Joanie were actually married.”

“You shit,” Claire yelled. “You shit!”

Brian arched an eyebrow. He seemed to become calmer, the angrier Claire was.

Clicking his tongue, Brian said, “Gee, and there’s me thinking you actually wanted to talk to me. If you want to hurl insults, hurl them at your brood. They deserve it.”

He turned away.

“Leave my kids out of this and don’t you turn your back on me, don't you dare,” Claire said furiously.

Brian looked over his shoulder. “I’m not eight anymore, you’ll find it's quite difficult to beat up on me these days.”

Claire stomped her foot. “I want an explanation.”

Brian turned back, his hands loosely clasped in front of him like a teacher. “Very well. You see, Claire, kids grow up. And after eight, you turn nine, then ten…”

Ken and Vic exchanged a glance, rolling their eyes. Dave and Hunter sniggered, and Leda chortled.

Claire’s eyes narrowed. “You always thought you were so clever, little brother. First you get all those stupid straight As in school, like anybody gives a shit. Then you go to college, shoving your achievements in our faces. And then, if you please, instead of dying of AIDS like any faggot should, you strike it rich with your fancy job. I hate your guts, you know that?”

“The feeling is mutual, I assure you,” Brian said calmly, while the men rose to their feet as one, all of them coming to stand behind Brian and Justin. 

Leda and Molly stepped up to Claire, their smiles dangerous.

“Brian wouldn't hit a woman,” Leda said evenly. “I have no such qualms. Keep it civil, sister, or you’ll be sporting more bruises than pimples.”

“And that’ll be kinda difficult to achieve,” Molly added, studying Claire’s face. “But we’ll manage.”

Her sons sniggered at Claire now.

Carrie saw Jennifer shake her head, she made a move as if to get up, but Tucker’s hand shot out and kept her in her seat. Jennifer said something, her frown deepening. Tucker shook his head adamantly. After a moment, Jennifer settled back down, glaring at Tucker.

Claire paid no attention to the two women; she glared at the men behind Brian. “You’re all faggots, are you? Then you should all get AIDS and die!”

Brian put his arm around Justin protectively. “Repeat that, and I will hit a woman,” he said icily. “My very own sister, to be precise. I do owe you a few cuts and bruises, I seem to recall.”

“I’m no homosexual,” Richard said serenely. “Yet, you offend me. Prejudice does tend to have that effect.”

Those were the moments when Carrie was extraordinarily proud of her husband.

“Same here,” Matt said forcefully.

“And here,” Jim added calmly.

“You’re that judge,” Claire said. “I’ve seen you on TV! Brian. You know a judge?”

“I know a lot of people, Claire,” Brian said in a bored tone. “However, I will not discuss my life with you. You still want witnesses?”

Claire nodded vehemently. “Then they’ll know what you’re like.”

Leda narrowed her eyes at her. “We know exactly what Brian is like, make no mistake. We’re about to find out what you’re like, and I’m pretty sure none of us is going to like it.”

“Can’t you get this cow off my back,” Claire said.

“Feel free to take whatever measures you see fit, Leeds,” Brian said. “I won’t be a moment.”

With those long, beautiful strides of his, Brian vanished into the house.

The two boys squirmed under the men’s hands.

“Let go, you stinker,” the older boy said. “Or I’ll tell the police that you molested me.”

Justin put his head to one side. “That seems to be a habit with you, John. It didn't work when you accused your uncle, what makes you think it would work now?”

Shane raised his head sharply, and Carrie caught her breath. The little horror had what? 

Judson had gone white.

Carrie didn't want to look at Vic right now, or Ken. She exchanged a helpless look with Richard, aware that he was furious.

“This time, I won’t take his ugly old bracelet,” John shot back. “And the courts are in favor of molested children. All the faggots touch us up!”

“They must be blind, very desperate faggots,” Justin smirked. “You're a troll, just like your mother.”

“I can assure you that the courts don’t rule in favor of lying brats,” Richard added.

John squirmed. “I don't like being held.”

“Can't be helped,” Shane said coldly. “I don’t like touching you, but we don’t want you to walk off with anything.”

“Leave my boys alone,” Claire nagged. “They're perfectly well-behaved.”

“They are,” Brian agreed, returning. “They’re basically nice kids. For apes.”

Brian had a thick manila envelope in his hand. “You really want to do this here, Claire?”

Claire nodded. “Oh yes, I do.”

Justin stepped closer to Brian again.

Brian drew a breath. “Ask your kids whether they’re as sure.”

“You got nothing on us,” John said. 

The younger boy bit his lip nervously. Carrie tried to remember his name, certain that Brian had mentioned it once or twice. Paul? Patrick? No, Peter. Peter.

“Here,” Brian drew a photo from the envelope. “I got pretty pictures of your enchanting offspring for your ever-growing collection of mug shots, Claire.”

Claire looked at the photo, paling slightly. “That was just a prank.”

Brian shrugged, handing her a stack of photos. “So were these, I presume.”

Claire rifled through them, throwing her boys an angry glance. “Where did you get these? Did you have my boys followed?”

“Christ, no. I don't take that much of an interest in the criminal careers of your rug rats. Their father seems to care, though.”

“Neil,” Claire said bitterly. “I should’ve known.”

Brian shrugged again. “You should’ve looked after them.”

Claire glared at him. “You landed me with all the work, remember? I’m the one looking after our mother, while you have a good time with your friends!”

“I pay for accommodation, attire, transportation, victuals, and the gardener. In return, you get to listen to dear Joanie whining. I think we have a fair deal,” Brian said evenly.

“You could invite mother to come live with you,” Claire said.

“I could wear Lagerfeld, but I won’t,” Brian replied.

“If this is all, I still don’t see…”

“It's not all,” Brian said. “I kept the best till last.”

He gave Claire more photos. Claire took one look at them, whirled, and slapped her sons across their faces, leaving red marks.

Brian sucked his lips into his mouth, his eyes narrowing angrily.

Leda and Molly quickly grabbed the hysterical woman and pulled her away from the boys.

“We don’t hit kids around here,” Leda said sternly. “Not even yours. Calm down, bitch!”

As the kids hadn’t even reacted, Carrie wondered whether they were used to this sort of treatment?

A balding dark-haired man with sad eyes and a weary expression approached, nodding a greeting at the assembly and holding out his hand to Brian. “Sorry I’m late, pal.”

Brian shook his hand firmly. “You're in time for the grand finale, Neil.”

The name confirmed what Carrie had suspected – the unfortunate ex-hubby.

Neil sighed. “Claire. What do you think you’re doing, harassing Brian at home?”

“You stay out of this, you wimp,” Claire said furiously.

Neil shook his head. “I’m glad I divorced you.”

“You ditched her,” Brian said enviously. “How does a brother do that?”

Neil grinned at him cheerlessly. “Sorry, I think you’re stuck.”

“You’re such assholes, both of you,” Claire ground out. “I hate you. I hate men.”

“Men hate you,” Neil shot back. “Because you’re a bitch.”

“Don’t start,” Brian said wearily. “Let’s keep this reasonable, shall we?”

Carrie still wondered what all this was about. Why did Brian have those photos, when Neil was the one who had his sons followed? Why did he have them followed in the first place?

Claire glared at Brian. “This is not about you, you shit.”

“It’s not about you, or Neil,” Brian stated. “It’s about your boys, and their last chance to build a decent life for themselves.”

“I’m giving them whatever I can,” Claire said defensively.

Brian sighed. “You spend more time drinking with our mother than you do dealing with your boys. You’re just not equipped to handle them, and I know Joanie is no help.”

“She brought you up half-decent,” Claire said.

“I brought myself up, thank you so very much. She brought you up, and she didn’t do a very good job on that, did she?”

“Of course she did,” Claire shot back.

“Yeah. High school dropout, pregnant at 16, married at 18, divorced at 20. Pregnant again, married again, divorced again. Joanie did a brilliant job there,” Brian scoffed. “And your boys are going down the same road.”

“I’m not pregnant,” the smaller boy said sullenly.

Carrie could see the glitter in Brian’s eyes, but he said nothing.

“Here’s the deal, Claire. I’ll continue to support you the way I’m doing now. 25 percent of that money goes directly to Neil, though, to help pay for the boarding-schools. These are the ones we picked out.”

Which was still very generous, Carrie thought. After all, Brian could have taken half of the money and given it to Neil.

“How am I supposed to cope on less money,” Claire whined, hardly looking at the leaflets Brian had handed her.

“You’ll have two less mouths to feed,” Brian said. “Neil has agreed to spring for the school stuff they’ll need, so you won’t be out of pocket.”

“I want my children here, with me,” Claire stomped her foot again.

“Out of the question,” Brian said. “It’s either boarding-school or juvenile detention.”

Claire threw herself at Neil, hammering at his chest with her fists. “You shit. You wimp. You fucking asshole. You had to have them followed, didn’t you!”

Leda and Molly watched for a moment, but Neil seemed incapable of catching Claire’s flailing fists. They exchanged an exasperated look, then grabbed Claire’s arms and dragged her away from her ex.

Neil pressed a handkerchief to his bleeding cheek.

“That’s an ugly scratch,” Brian said.

“I’m on it,” Jim walked up into the guest-rooms and returned moments later with his kit. He cleaned the cut and dressed it.

Brian shook his head at Claire. “Which part of ‘keep it reasonable’ didn’t you understand?”

Claire glared at him. “You’re envious because I have children and you’ll never have any. You bleeding fairy!”

Brian arched his eyebrow. “Yes. I’m dead envious of straight D students, who steal, con people, and fight at school. We won't even bother to mention the indecent assault.”

“They should at least attend the same school,” Claire said desperately. 

Neil sighed. “No. The arrangements are made. No changes.”

“But Oregon, and New Jersey! They’ll miss each other. They love each other!”

“They love each other about as much as you and I do,” Brian said coldly. “Besides, they are a bad influence on one another.”

Claire sighed. “I can't just say yes to this. I’ll have to discuss it with mother.”

Brian held out a check. “You decide now, Claire. You have ten seconds.”

“But, but…” Claire stammered, clearly trying to think of something else to say.

“Five seconds,” Brian said, making a move as if to rip up the check. “Grab the money and run, Claire. You won't have them for much longer either way. The cops are already on to them.”

Claire glared at Neil. “It’s all your fault, you cock-sucker.”

Brian snorted. “He’s as straight as a ruler, Claire. And you can thank him for keeping your children out of the slammer. I wouldn’t have bothered, frankly.”

“That’s why you never took him from me, is it? You stole all my other boyfriends!”

“My boyfriends were hot, and yours were not. You tried to steal mine, if memory serves,” Brian laughed mirthlessly. “Tick, tick, tick, time’s up.”

Claire reached out for the check, but Brian snatched it back. “One more thing. Don’t try to fuck with us. We won’t stand for it. The boys leave in September, and you won’t see them until they come home for Christmas. They return to school, and you can see them for Easter next. Summer holidays, we’ll think of something.”

Claire’s eyes narrowed, she grabbed the check and pocketed it. “I could tell the police a thing or two about you, Brian. I know you had sex with a seventeen year old boy!”

“The age of consent in Pennsylvania is sixteen,” Justin said easily. “What’s the second thing?”

“You,” Claire spat. “You’re sneaky, and you’ll meet with a sticky end!”

“Is she wearing red shoes? Maybe we could drop a house on her,” Emmett said pensively.

Surprising Carrie, Brian pulled Justin close and brushed a kiss across his lips with a soft whisper. Justin smiled widely.

“Ugh,” Peter said. “Did you see that? Uncle kissed a guy!”

“That’s what faggots do,” Judson grinned. “They kiss guys. Lots of people want to kiss your uncle. Ever seen anybody kiss your mother?”

Brian turned back to Claire. “The clock says it’s time for you to leave. Clocks are such agreeable things, don’t you think?”

Claire turned on her heel. “I’ll tell mother all about you, you just wait.”

“I’m still not eight anymore,” Brian said, sounding bored. “Besides, she’s already decided I’ll go to hell.”

“And you will,” Carrie said venomously, looking over her shoulder.

Brian shrugged. “Just so long as you lot go to heaven. I’d hate having to spend eternity with you. A life sentence is bad enough.”

“Come on boys,” Claire said, “We’re not talking to these people.”

“No,” Judson smiled coldly. “We just take their money.”

Claire put her arms around her sons, and they started to walk away.

“Hold it right there,” Shane said. “I’d like my watch back, you little cretin!”

Claire blushed furiously, and shook the kids. “You didn’t!”

Neil swallowed audibly. “Empty your pockets, boys. Now!”

He sounded surprisingly stern, and Carrie wondered why he had such trouble coping with his ex.

The kids took one look at their father, and reluctantly turned out their pockets.

“Wow,” Shane said. “The things you pick up at community school!”

“We didn’t,” Brian said evenly. “What the hell did you want with my bottle opener?”

“It's a cool make,” John sighed. “It would sell on eBay.”

“Oh, great,” Brian said. “Now we can add fencing to their long list of accomplishments.”

“I’m just bursting with pride,” Neil said bitterly.

“This is your fault,” Claire spat angrily.

“Yes,” Neil admitted. “I shouldn’t have agreed to let you keep them.”

Various items were returned to their astonished owners, and Brian handed Neil the envelope with the photos. He, Justin, Shane, and Judson walked the family back to their cars.

“Before these guys pocket the house,” Judson said grimly.

Neil sighed. “Don't take this the wrong way, folks, but I hope never to see any of you again. This is just too embarrassing.”

 

Molly fought tears, and Leda and Melanie exchanged a worried glance and took her into the house.

Carrie frowned, and got up to pour drinks.

Jim accepted the shot of whiskey with a grateful nod, rubbing a spot above his right eyebrow. “They're enough to give me a headache,” he muttered. “I feel sorry for Brian.”

Richard sighed. “That was actually one of the friendlier encounters.” He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, frowning. “Did you see the boy’s eyes?”

“Whose eyes,” Ken asked, sounding confused. “The kids?”

Richard smiled softly. “I guess I’ll call Brian my boy for the rest of my days.”

Ken smiled back. “He seems to like it.”

“He’d tell me if he didn’t,” Richard agreed. “I wish he’d let somebody else handle this sort of thing.”

Brian and the other men came back.

“Thank you for your inattention. After this brief and repulsive glimpse into the life of Brian, we now return to our regularly scheduled broadcast,” Brian accepted the glass Carrie handed him and downed it in one.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Brian went into the house.

Justin sighed, and shook his head at the whiskey Carrie offered him. “I’d better stay sober,” he said softly. “Can I have some juice, please.”

“What else does Brian have planned for today,” Richard asked quietly.

Justin shrugged. “Dinner, as far as I know.”

Richard nodded. “Let’s hope that’s it, then. Are you going to go after him?”

“In a little while,” Justin explained. “Brian needs some space.”

Judson put his arm around Justin. The two shared a smile, which seemed to confuse Shane, judging by his expression.

“Are we back to ‘we didn’t see or hear a thing’,” Shane asked.

Justin nodded. “If you can. It’s easier if Brian can pretend nothing happened.”

“Claire is a cow,” Dave sighed. “Did John really accuse Brian of molesting him?”

Justin nodded gloomily. “Yes. I think he was about twelve at the time, the fucking monster.” Looking at Richard, he added, “Pardon my French, Carrie.”

Carrie shrugged and smiled.

“And he stole Brian's bracelet,” Judson asked.

“The one with the cowry shells,” Justin sighed. “I managed to get it back, but Brian hasn’t worn it since. Guess where I found it yesterday?”

“In Michael’s treasure chest,” Ken said miserably.

“Why would a twelve year old kid come up with that kind of story,” Jim shook his head.

Justin shrugged. “Brian was baby-sitting him, and he probably wasn't too happy about it. Knowing Brian, he didn’t hide his feelings. I only know that he caught John taking his money. John didn't even apologize, he just called Brian names and made fun of him for being gay. Brian grabbed him, pushed his head down the toilet, and flushed. Too good for that brat, if you ask me. It gave John adequate cause to accuse Brian.”

Shane grinned. “Brian once broke a guy’s fingers for shoving his face in the toilet.”

“After said guy called him a filthy faggot,” Justin said, his eyes narrowing. “Are you on John’s side, by any chance?”

Shane laughed. “Of course not. What would you do if I was?”

Justin shrugged. “Find a toilet.”

“That’s enough, boys,” Richard sighed. “Don’t add to the tension.”

“What I’d like to know,” Jim said slowly, his eyes on Justin,” How do you know so much about it? Weren’t you with Ethan at the time?”

Justin met his eyes steadily. “I was. Carl was going out with Debbie, he told her. I don't remember where I heard, probably at the diner.”

“And you went to Claire’s house,” Jim prompted.

Justin sighed. “I’d seen John at the diner with Brian, but he hadn’t noticed me. I caught up with him in at the arcade. He was sporting the bracelet.”

“It never occurred to you that Brian might actually have touched the boy,” Jim asked.

“Playing devil’s advocate again, Jim?” Justin frowned. “Brian wouldn’t touch a kid. Not ever.”

“How did you convince Carl,” Dave asked softly.

“I didn’t have to. He knew Brian wouldn’t. Besides, if somebody molested you, they’d not give you one of their trinkets,” Justin shrugged. “And you wouldn’t want it in the first place, much less actually wear it.”

“Brian touched you,” Jennifer said absentmindedly.

Justin took a deep breath. “I practically begged him to do it with me. I said I was twenty-one. Anyway, I wasn’t twelve!”

He put down his glass of juice. “I’ll find Brian.”

Shooting his mother an angry look, he vanished into the house.

Tucker shook his head at Jennifer. “Honey. Why don’t you have a bit of a nap before dinner? The heat seems to be getting to you.”

Jennifer shrugged wordlessly and left for the stables. Tucker stared after her with a mixture of surprise and hurt.

“That time of the month,” Jim asked sympathetically.

Tucker sighed. “It’s been that time of the month practically since Justin returned. And before you say anything, I’m fully aware that it’s not Justin’s fault.”


	47. Forty-Seven

Emmett had snuck into the house a few moments before Claire left, and he watched as Brian first vanished into his bedroom for a few moments, then went into another room with a wad of papers. Documents?

Emmett sighed. He did not want to do this, not at all. He still considered Ted and Michael friends, though what they had done to Ben and Brian was despicable. Debbie was the mother he would have wanted: ever-present, ever supportive, fun loving, and cheerful. Loving, to a certain extent. His real mother was nothing like that. Living with Debbie had been great, and he would always be grateful to her. But when all was said and done, Brian was the injured party here. The feelings he had for them would need to go, especially if he wanted to salvage his fragile friendship with Brian.

Sighing again, Emmett knocked on the door Brian had just gone through. Slipping into the room without waiting for Brian’s invitation, he was in time to witness him taking some pills.

Brian saw his look and grimaced. “Headache,” he said curtly. “Were you looking for me?”

Emmett nodded mutely, giving the spacious room a quick once-over. An office. Well, hello. The man had taste. He had no use for an office, but he knew a decent workspace when he saw it, and this was fantastic. Cool colors, clean lines. Tidy. So very Brian.

Brian smirked, but Emmett had the feeling his heart wasn’t in it. “Sorry, I’m spoken for.”

Emmett rolled his eyes. “You don’t say. Do I know him?”

Brian smiled, without the expression reaching his eyes. “Not here to shoot the breeze, and definitely not here for sex. So what do you want?”

“Talk to you,” Emmett said, suppressing his sigh. Brian’s plate was full to overflowing, and now he was going to add to the load.

Brian gestured. “Have a seat. Drink? Juice or water.”

“Juice,” Emmett decided, wondering again why Brian wasn’t drinking as much alcohol as he normally did. Maybe he didn’t want his son to see him half-cut? It was probably bad enough the poor little chap got to see his mother drunk most of the time. Then again, she was on holiday, wasn’t she?

Brian dropped ice-cubes into two glasses, adding orange juice to one and water to the other. Handing Emmett his glass, he settled in his chair, watching him over the rim of his glass.

Emmett returned the look frankly, noting the tight skin around Brian’s eyes. Headache. Tension? Whichever, better cut to the chase straight away.

“I spoke to Melanie. Calvin and I are happy to go to Toronto and help her.”

“Thanks,” Brian seemed relieved. “I really appreciate that. I’d go myself, but I can’t very well leave here. I booked tickets for Thursday after lunch, and you can pick up a truck in Toronto.” 

Emmett nodded. “She’ll be better off in the Burgh. We’ll pitch in if you need us, you know that.”

Brian’s smile was more genuine this time. “Again, much appreciated, Emmett. What can I do for you in return?”

So sad, that most people seemed to expect some sort of payment for doing Brian a favor. Emmett sighed again. Well, he wasn’t like that, and neither was Calvin.

He shook his head. “I’m not here to get something out of you, honey. I wanted to ask have you thought this through.”

“I assure you I have carefully considered every aspect of my proposition,” Brian said a little stiffly.

He’s getting annoyed, Emmett understood. How odd that you learned to read a person over the years, even when that person often tried to hide their reactions from you.

“So you think Lindsay won’t mind you keeping Gus?”

“She’ll mind alright,” Brian shrugged. “But she’s not fit to look after him.”

“Because she drinks?”

“Drinking, we could probably cure her of that, if she wanted to be cured,” Brian shrugged again. “I’m not sure we can deal with her sleeping around, though.”

“You sleep around,” Emmett said, aware it was a provocation.

Brian shook his head. “I know we haven’t seen much of each other recently, Emmett. But I was faithful to Judson. And I’m perfectly happy to keep it in my trousers now if that means I get to keep my boy.”

Emmett raised his hands, palms out. “I shouldn’t have said that. I just wanted to see whether you’d bring up Justin.”

Brian frowned. “What does Justin have to do with it?”

“You had an open relationship before; I assume you’re going back to that?”

Running an impatient hand through his hair, Brian shook his head. “For god’s sake, Emmett. It’s not even been a week! We need time to sort things. I wish people would get off my back about it.”

Emmett sat forward. “I can do that. But Brian, darling. Are you aware that protecting the kids means you’re leaving yourself wide open to injury?”

Brian sat back, and picked up his glass again. Taking a mouthful, he finally asked, “Meaning?”

Oh dear. Brief Brian meant belligerent Brian.

“Seriously, Brian?” Emmett shook his head. “I was right then. You haven’t thought this through. You’re dealing with Lindsay here, she can be pretty vindictive. And do you really think that after all that has happened, Michael and Debbie are just going to hand over JR to you?”

Brian shrugged. “The papers are signed, the case is airtight.”

Taking a deep breath, Emmett said, “Be that as it may, Bri. They’re out to get you as it is, because Debbie doesn’t see that you have a perfectly good reason to withdraw from them. Michael – we all know how he feels about you. For both Debbie and Michael, you’re the man they turn to when they’re in a fix. They’ll hate you for cancelling that subscription. They’re not going to give up the girl without a fight.”

“Emmett. I tell you, there’s nothing they can do,” Brian stated firmly.

“But there is!” Emmett realized he had raised his voice and tried to calm down. He’d never get through to Brian if he became all upset now. Taking another deep breath, he continued more quietly, “Brian. Michael told me about Marvin Telson.”

“Marvin Telson,” Brian repeated, frowning in thought. Then he raised his brows. “Now there’s a blast from the past. The breeder who wanted to try gay on for size, only to find it didn’t fit. What did Mikey tell you about him?”

“That you were willing to fuck him to get his account,” Emmett said flatly. “Only his kid became ill so you told him to go home.”

Brian shrugged. “So?”

“You don’t understand,” Emmett said desperately. “If he told me about that, what did he tell other people? What did he tell Ted? You know he can’t keep his mouth shut, about anything. They’re being questioned by the police, what kind of accusations are they going to hurl at you, hoping to get out of their mess?”

Brian frowned. “Accusations. Allegations. They have no proof. Even if they had proof, I haven’t done anything illegal.”

“Being stupid isn’t illegal,” Emmett sighed. “Yet, that’s the reason you want to keep Gus away from Lindsay, and JR away from Michael. They haven’t really done anything to the kids.”

Brian’s frown deepened. “Whose side are you on, exactly?”

“Yours,” Emmett said without hesitation. “Don’t you see? This isn’t exactly easy for me, yet here I am.”

“I appreciate that it’s not easy,” Brian said softly. “So why are you doing it?”

Emmett rolled his eyes. “Brian. Ted and Michael, they are my friends. I like Debbie. A lot. But I can see that they’ll have it in for you, because for all of them, everything that happened is your fault. They simply do not see that they did something wrong themselves. Debbie still doesn’t get that what Michael did to you is a real, actual crime.”

Brian pulled his lips into his mouth, stubbornly silent.

“You scare me a little,” Emmett admitted. “I think you know that. You are so … passionate about the things you love, so determined to have things go your way. I could never be like that. But right now, I think you need a friend to point out that you could lose it all.”

“Weird,” Brian muttered. “I scare you? Considering that you’re the only one out of that crowd that I actually respect.”

Emmett raised his brows. “Say again?”

Brian shrugged. “You’re out. You don’t lie about who you are. Ted and Michael, they’re never upfront. You are. I do respect that. Why does that surprise you?”

“I’m a little camp,” Emmett grinned. “Well, a lot camp. I always thought you considered me a bit silly.”

Brian shook his head. “You got that wrong. You know that song, how does it go – about dealing your own deck, and beating your own drum?” He hummed a few bars.

Emmett grinned. “’I am what I am’, from ‘La Cage aux Folles’. Fabulous film. Did you know that means a cage full of silly women? I looked it up.”

“That’s the one! I saw the musical in London,” Brian grinned. “You should’ve seen the guy who played Zaza. Those legs! Fabulous indeed. And folles is French slang for queers. So the title fits. But what I was trying to say – you are like that. You love each feather and each spangle, and that’s cool.”

Emmett felt his grin widen. “Wow. Coming from you, that’s quite the compliment.”

Brian shrugged. “The simple truth. What did you mean when you said I could lose it all?”

“What if they went to the cops and said that John wasn’t lying? What if they saw that drawing of you lot all in bed together that Justin did, and claimed that you were harming the kids? What if they repeated the shit Kip Thomas was saying? They could even bring up Justin, say that he got bashed because of you. You have no idea who Michael talked to, and what he said. If nothing else, he told Debbie everything.”

“All of that – none of it is true,” Brian shook his head.

“I know. Your friends know. But in court, you’d have to prove it. I’m not sure you can prove it, Brian.”

“Maybe they won’t bother,” Brian said, his voice not quite steady.

“They’ll bother. Make no mistake about that. They’ll bother! They’re not going to give you Jenny Rebecca, Brian. Not because they want her, but because you do.”

“Fuck,” Brian sighed. “You’re right. I need to take precautions.”

“I finally got through to you then,” Emmett smiled a little. “Damn, darling. You’re hard work.”

Brian shrugged. “I appreciate the warning.”

Emmett nodded. “Get in touch with that lawyer of yours. If you need a character witness, I’m happy to help. Not that I think I’ll be much good, but still.”

A smile, a genuine smile. Rare, Emmett realized. Brian didn’t smile at you a lot, unless you were Gus or Justin. 

Emmett got up, picking up his glass and holding out his hand for Brian’s. Instead of giving him his glass, Brian got up and warmly shook his hand. “Thanks, Emmett.”

Surprised, Emmett grinned. “Anytime.”

Quietly, he closed the door. Putting their empty glasses into the dishwasher, he was ashamed to realize he was more than happy to leave the room. Poor Brian, he was stuck with his pile of problems.

 

Brian closed the library door and sank into his favorite chair, leaning back and closing his eyes.

Lindsay. Debbie and Michael. Joanie and Jack. And now Claire.

The distorted faces of the demons he so often met at night.

Voices, shrill and obnoxious.

Blood-red claws that reached for him, claws that tore at his body, his heart and his mind.

Nowhere to run, Kinney. You said it yourself, it’s for life.

Well. Michael and Ted were out of his hair. For a while, so was Debbie. Tom was taking care of things. Claire wouldn’t come back any time soon.

That left Lindsay.

Why couldn’t they at least give him some privacy? 

And now Claire had told everybody his name.

That name.

Brian remembered how his mother had told him on his fifth birthday that his father had never wanted him. Remembered the surprisingly intense pain, much worse than any physical injury.

Remembered figuring out what his middle name meant, and understanding that his father thought he’d never be as good as him. Second-best forever.

The insight had driven him ever since. 

He needed to be better in school, better than his parents, and definitely better than Claire. 

He aimed to be the best in whatever sport, because his father was a great bowler.

Brian had to be faster, smarter, and richer than they were.

He had to be cleaner, and perfectly groomed at all times. His clothes had to look more stylish than what they wore, and his car must never break down.

His manners had to improve, until they were so flawless that they appeared natural, to himself and others.

Whatever he did, he had to know exactly what he was doing, why he was doing it, and how it was done faultlessly. Everything had to look simple, effortless.

Excellence. Brian Aristide Kinney was driven to excellence.

His own name forced him to strive, and never stop. Never rest on your laurels, in case others catch up with you.

In order to be unsurpassed, the son of the best had to keep running. Keep fighting. Keep going.

Tired. He was so fucking tired. It would be nice not to struggle anymore. Not to have any decisions to make.

Great going, Kinney. Why not just fucking give in to the fucking cancer?

No way. Justin is back. That’s all that matters.

There was a soft knock. “Brian?”

“Door’s open,” Brian smiled, and relaxed. “Come on in, Justin.”


	48. Forty-Eight

Justin stepped through the door, and hesitated. Brian looked… dispirited. Oh, how he hated Claire and her brood!

“Would you rather be alone for a while,” Justin asked quietly.

Instead of an answer, Brian held out his hand.

Justin closed the door and locked it, then fit himself into the chair with Brian.

Brian chuckled softly. “Another reason why we can't afford to gain an ounce,” he drew Justin into his arms, holding tightly.

Justin snuggled down, sighing contentedly.

“How did you get John off my back,” Brian asked.

Justin raised his head, trying to read Brian’s eyes.

“Come now,” Brian said a little impatiently. “You returned the bracelet.”

“Which you haven’t worn since,” Justin murmured.

“After that little shit wore it? No. I tossed it.”

“It was in the box,” Justin said.

“I wish I had seen that,” Brian sighed. “That’s one thing Michael could’ve kept.”

“I liked the bracelet on you,” Justin said. “It was you.”

Brian tilted his head. “Buy me another one when we go to Mexico.”

“I didn't know we were going to Mexico,” Justin grinned.

“When I get back in September. I haven’t had a break in ages,” Brian said. “Or wherever else you want to go. You pick.”

“If I said Europe, you’d regret that offer,” Justin said.

“No regrets,” Brian smirked. “I mean it. You pick.”

Justin leaned his head on Brian’s shoulder. “You’re very accommodating.”

“Actually, why don’t you go ahead and make the arrangements,” Brian said. “I’ll be back the second weekend in September. Give us time for my boy’s birthday, then knock yourself out. Four weeks, wherever.”

“Wherever,” Justin said dubiously.

“Sure,” Brian rubbed his cheek in his hair, and Justin wondered when he had started doing that. He didn’t remember Brian ever doing it before he had left for New York. Or hadn’t he paid attention?

“Just pick one or two places. Don’t try and do Europe in four weeks! We can go back next year if you like.”

Justin bit his lip. “Brian – just how much money does Kinnetik make? I mean, you’ve always been generous, but now…”

Brian smiled. “I’m a good catch.”

“You’re not,” Justin blurted, then blushed as Brian arched that eyebrow. “Fuck, Bri, you know what I mean.”

“Christ, Justin, do you need it in writing? I know you’re not after my money. It's nice to have somebody who’ll help me spend it.”

Justin sighed gustily.

“Forget your mother, and forget Debbie,” Brian said sharply. “I told you before – if you give a shit what other people think you’ll never have a life.”

“You want Gus to have a good opinion of you,” Justin said slowly. “And a few other people besides.”

Brian nodded. “I’d prefer it if Richard and Carrie thought well of me. Shane and Judson. But if they don’t, it’s just too bad. I’ll still do my own thing.”

Justin snuggled closer again. “What do you get out of this, Brian?”

He felt Brian flinch. 

“Why do you keep asking me that? What kind of question is that, Justin,” Brian asked after a long moment.

Justin shrugged. “You got yourself a half-cooked artist with no idea where life is taking him. What do you get, getting me?”

Brian leaned back and studied his face, the hazel eyes dark with an emotion Justin couldn’t identify. “Why do I need to get something out of getting you? Just getting you is enough.”

“That’s not it,” Justin shook his head.

“The limitations of language,” Brian sighed. “Justin. I want you with me. I want you to be happy, and to do whatever you fancy doing. In return, I expect you to let me enjoy running Kinnetik, without too much grouching about the hours I keep. That’s it.”

Justin nodded. “I think I can do that. I’m not watching the clock when I work.”

Brian raised his eyebrow. “Your turn.”

Shaking his head vehemently, Justin said, “No. I don't want you to change. I was terrified when you did, because you weren’t Brian anymore.”

“Are you saying you have no expectations,” Brian sounded startled.

Justin bit his lip. “I once told you I knew what to expect from you, and what you expected from me. I didn’t, not really. I guess it's about time I tried to live up to my clever one-liners.”

Brian smiled and drew him into a languid kiss.

Just kissing Brian… mhh. 

Justin loved kissing Brian. Brian smelled of Calvin, and his soap. Most of all, Brian smelled of Brian, and that was the perfect scent. Brian tasted faintly of whiskey, and strongly of Brian. Nice. So nice!

There was a loud thump on the window, and Shane called cheerfully, “No making out on the furniture, Brian will kill you if you leave stains!”

They had both jumped from the noise, and now Brian was out of the chair in a flash.

Justin was still wondering how Brian had managed to disentangle himself so swiftly, when Brian already tore the window open.

“I have one word for you, Shane,” Brian's voice was dark, and sounded dangerous. “Bill.”

He banged the window shut and drew the curtains with one angry movement.

Justin had just had enough time to see that Shane’s expression changed from roguish to blank to stunned and hurt.

Brian came back and pulled Justin up from the chair. “Where were we?”

Justin smiled, and stood on tiptoe to kiss Brian. “Somewhere by here,” he murmured, unbuttoning Brian's shirt.

They ended up on the floor, and Justin managed to divest Brian of all his clothes.

Brian stretched out on his back, and Justin started by kissing his face, and gently biting his chin.

Brian arched into his touch, encouraging Justin. Justin smiled and kissed and licked his way down south, detouring to suck on the nipples, bathe them with his tongue and tease them with his teeth.

“Brian,” Shane hammered on the door. “We need to talk!”

“Fuck off,” Justin yelled back, angrily. “We don’t want you!”

Brian snorted, but didn't even bother to open his eyes.

“Now!” Shane pounded on the door again. “Brian, open the fucking door already.”

“Later,” Brian finally said lazily. “Much later. Go away, Shane.”

Justin smirked and stabbed his tongue into Brian’s navel. The result was a very satisfying low groan, and Justin’s grin widened.

“Good heavens, Shane,” Carrie sounded annoyed. “I told you before, if you don’t play nice, the other boys won’t let you join in. Come outside, you can have a lemonade and wait.”

Brian and Justin grinned at each other, and Justin was pleased to see the amused glitter lightening the hazel to gold.

“Mother,” Shane actually sounded petulant, and Brian’s grin widened.

“Now, Shane, or I’ll tell father,” Carrie said in just the right tone of voice to make Brian snigger maliciously.

Their footsteps died away, and Brian carded his fingers into Justin’s hair, persuading him wordlessly to continue.

Justin finally reached his goal, that beautiful, erect dick just waiting to descend into his eager throat.

Justin took his time, kissing, licking, and sucking on bits of skin, until Brian squirmed.

“Justin,” Brian sounded breathless, and a bit threatening, and Justin knew the time had come.

Gently, he closed his lips around the flared head, then relaxed and deep-throated Brian in one smooth motion.

Brian jerked his hips, and Justin smiled around the thick cock filling his mouth, breathing the scent of Brian, tasting Brian and his heart bursting with love for Brian.

Brian's orgasm was short and violent, and Justin grinned. He loved it when Brian couldn't wait.

Lazily, Brian reached for him, but Justin just nestled against him, catching Brian's wrist. “I came when you did,” he murmured. “You’re so hot, I can come from touching you.”

Brian held tightly. 

Justin knew that it wasn't just the aftermath. 

Brian was trying to tell him something without words.

A lot of things, actually, by the way he squeezed him. Thank you for dealing with John? Thank you for being here? Thank you for a good blowjob? 

Should he ask? Maybe not. If Brian wanted to talk, he did.

Actually, things seemed pretty easy again. If he listened to himself, he could hear Brian, knew what Brian needed from him. 

White noise, Justin thought. I need to blank out the other sounds.

Brian shifted, pressing cool lips to Justin’s. Justin moaned and opened his mouth invitingly.

Their tongues met, danced and played for a while, tenderly, sensuously. Yet, there was little passion, just a feeling of intimacy, of harmony.

Suddenly, Justin wanted to bury under Brian’s skin, stay close to him forever.

“I want your baby,” he murmured before he had a chance to censor himself.

Brian drew back, eyes wide, and his expression startled. He burst out laughing.

Justin bit his lip, dead embarrassed. Fuck. He was normally so careful not to give voice to his more sentimental feelings around Brian.

Still laughing, Brian rolled him onto his back and assaulted him with kisses, little butterfly-kisses fluttering all over his face.

Torn for a moment between chagrin and resentment, Justin finally realized that Brian was actually laughing with him, and not at him. He relaxed into Brian’s arms and did his best to return the kisses, not caring whether they landed on Brian’s nose, or his cheek, or his eyebrow.

Wrapping his jeans-clad legs around Brian’s thighs, Justin molded himself to Brian, regretting the fact that he hadn’t bothered to take off his own clothes.

“You can’t get any closer,” Brian whispered tenderly, holding him close. “You already got under my skin.”

Justin rubbed his nose against Brian’s cheek. “Not close enough, never close enough.”

“Not here, not now,” Brian murmured between kisses. “Tonight. When we’re alone.”

Justin knew the promise for what it was, and took a deep breath. “You don't have to.”

“I want to. You do.”

Oh yes, he wanted to. Wanted to every night, every second he was close to Brian.

Their secret. 

He had celebrated his eighteenth birthday. 

In the best possible way. 

That night, Brian had taught him how to take a man. 

A night of passion, incredible sensations, and such deep, deep love for this man who had given himself, no holds barred.

Justin sighed, and fit himself even tighter to Brian. He had no words.

Brian let himself be held, relaxed into Justin’s almost desperate embrace.

Words weren’t necessary.

 

After a long while, they moved, reluctantly.

Brian got dressed, and found a mint in his pocket which they shared, passing it from mouth to mouth, tongues tangling and lips locking.

The mint gone, Justin leaned against Brian for a moment longer. “Can’t we just stay here?”

“We could,” Brian said. “But eventually, Shane or your mother would kick in the door.”

Justin grinned. “While we climb out of the window.”

“You first,” Brian smirked, drawing the curtains aside and opening said window.

Justin hadn't noticed the bars before.

“All the ground-floor windows have bars,” Brian explained. “Requirement for the security firm, and for insurance.”

Remembering the expensive TV and stereo in the living room, Justin nodded.

Brian slipped an arm around his shoulders and drew him toward the door. “I had to insure the art,” he said quietly. 

Justin knew he didn’t mean the Harpers.


	49. Forty-Nine

Just as the library door opened, the phone rang. 

Brian picked up the receiver, while Justin rolled his eyes, vanished into the bedroom, came back wearing different trousers, and then went to the kitchen to pour drinks.

Catching sight of the four people sitting in the living room, he actually blushed. 

Judson grinned to himself as Justin strictly kept his eyes on Brian when he came back, offering him his glass.

“I know who you are, Mrs. Schmidt,” Brian said politely. “We met in hospital, when Ted was in a coma.”

“Ted stole from my employees, by transferring their salaries into his own account, collecting two days of interest. It has also come to my attention that he is using again, and that makes him a liability. Please understand that I had to let him go.”

Brian listened for a moment, and Judson grew angrier by the second. Why did Brian have to justify his perfectly reasonable actions to the jerk’s mother of all people? Why did everybody set their mothers on Brian in the first place?

His face grim, Justin grabbed the phone off Brian. Brian looked at him with a mixture of surprise and anger, while Justin spoke quietly, but forcefully.

“Mrs. Schmidt. I’m Mr. Kinney’s secretary. Ted deserves going to prison. Our boss would probably have been more lenient with your two-faced son if he had been aware of your existence. You should know that Ted took three days off last month to bury his mother. Don’t ever bother Mr. Kinney again, not here, and not at work.”

With an angry motion, Justin put the receiver down. “I may need an agent, Brian, but you need a sentinel. Why even talk to the bitch?”

Brian’s anger had given way to wry amusement, and Judson was impressed. There was no way he would’ve dared take the phone off Brian.

“She’s not a bitch,” Brian said calmly, studying Justin's face as though they were alone in the room. “She’s a mother.”

Judson wondered whether Brian was even aware that they were there.

“Did Ted ever tell you why he wanted you to be the executor of his living will,” Melanie asked.

Brian shrugged, put an arm around Justin, and drew him to where they were sitting in front of the fireplace. Judson realized that Brian had known they were there from the moment he opened the library door. 

Brian pulled Justin down into the seat with him and looked at Melanie, “What, you didn’t know?”

Melanie shook her head. “He just insisted it had to be you. Do you know why?”

Brian seemed to hesitate, and then he shrugged again. “I asked. He told me.”

“Told you what,” Richard prompted gently.

“Quote: ‘My mother couldn’t do it. Michael and Emmett couldn't do it, but you could. Cause you’re a heartless shit. You could pull the plug and you wouldn’t cry. And you’d know when it’s time to go.’ Unquote,” Brian said.

Judson felt his tone was entirely too calm, and that feeling was confirmed when he saw how Justin’s fingers clenched on his glass.

Brian actually sounded a lot like Schmidt, and Judson had no doubt the quote was verbatim. Brian’s exceptional memory never let him forget the needles and pins his so-called friends tormented him with.

“Hell,” Melanie murmured. “I’m sorry, Brian. If I’d known that…”

Brian smirked at her. “Sorry is bullshit. And back then, even if you had known, you would’ve drawn up the document anyway. I do seem to remember we had a bit of a discussion about it.”

“But you don’t like Ted,” Ben said from the open door, walking over and dropping into the free chair. “Why did it bother you?”

“It bothered me because I don't like him,” Brian said. “I didn’t want to make that decision just because it was a good way to get rid of him.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Justin said confidently. “Give yourself a bit of credit here.”

Molly wandered into the room, looking lost. “Is this private,” she asked hesitantly.

“You’re part of private,” Brian said instantly. “Come have a seat.”

Molly beamed at Brian and unceremoniously dropped into Judson’s chair. He grinned at her and made room. He was rather fond of the girl.

“I had no idea what Ted wanted,” Brian said. “We never talked about that sort of thing. Actually, I still don't know. I think if you want somebody to pull the plug, they should at least know where you stand.”

“Shit,” Melanie exploded. “I didn't know you never even spoke about it!”

“That’s why I didn’t want the responsibility,” Brian said calmly.

“So how did you make the decision, mac,” Richard asked.

Brian sighed. “I based it on what I would want. I had nothing else to go by.”

Richard nodded, his eyes resting on Brian with a warm expression.

Judson wondered how often Brian had to make decisions without being able to confer with other people.

“So what did you do,” Molly asked curiously. “Ted is unfortunately still alive.”

Brian grinned at her. “How unkind, sweetheart. I had decided to pull the plug the next day. The doctor said after that, most coma patients wake up with some sort of disability. I didn’t think Ted would be able to cope with any more disadvantages.”

“What kind of disadvantages does he have,” Carrie raised her eyebrows.

“His looks and his personality. Imagine a can of soda pop opened three days ago,” Brian grinned. “It’s deader than yesterday’s paper, and so flat you wouldn’t want it near your face.”

Carrie and Molly grimaced, Mel snorted, and the men laughed.

“Very adequate,” Ben grinned. “But Ted woke up.”

“Lucky Ted,” Brian shrugged.

“Do you have a living will,” Molly asked.

Brian nodded. “No life support.”

He had known that, but Judson still felt a chill down his spine.

By the look on his face, Justin hadn't known. And didn't like it any more than he did.

“But they might be able to help you. Not now, but in a year or two.” Molly frowned.

Brian made a face. “I’d run away screaming, but I’ve had a long day. Flat on my back for two years with strangers wiping my ass, and then wake up to a brave new world? No thanks. And what if they can't do anything?”

Molly shrugged. “You’d have to hang on until they can.”

Brian looked at her, his expression kind. “I might have said that at your age. But not anymore. If you're in a coma, you're not here. But your friends and relatives still visit. At first, because they want to, and they cling to hope. Then they lose hope, and they turn up because they feel they have to. And they feel bad if they don’t want to visit anymore. Nobody can move on until you’re gone. I’m not going to force that kind of thing on people I care about.”

“But if something happened to you, Justin would just die,” Molly insisted.

Brian shot Justin a sharp look. “Don't you dare!”

Justin rolled his eyes. “What’re you going to do, come back to kill me?”

Brian regarded Molly again. “If we died because we lose somebody we love, humanity would be extinct by now. It hurts, but the pain lessens eventually. Then you can move on. I’d want Justin to move on.”

“Fine, I’ll move on,” Justin said sharply. “Now, can we move on to a less morbid topic please?”

Judson wondered whether that sharp note was fear.

Brian pulled Justin closer, kissing him gently. “Let’s get some air,” he suggested.

Justin jumped up immediately, and now Judson was certain that he was wired with worry.

Carrie’s face reflected amusement as she watched the two men leave, fingers interlaced.

“I’m sure Brian didn’t even notice Justin holding his hand,” she grinned.

“He noticed,” Richard said. “He just doesn’t care anymore. He doesn’t think twice before kissing Justin.”

Judson perceived Molly was scrutinizing him. “What,” he asked.

“I’d be mad as hell. Why aren’t you angry with them,” Molly said.

Judson shook his head. “I’m glad. I want Brian happy, and I’m beginning to like your brother. They’re good together.”

“Shane hates it,” Molly sighed.

“Shane is a fool,” Richard said, his frustration evident. “It’s not as though his opinion makes a difference to Brian, or Justin. It only serves to alienate them, and that’s not in Brian’s best interest, or Shane’s.”

Richard stood. “I’ll go upstairs. I spotted a family of deer this morning, and I’d like to see whether they’re there in the afternoon.”

Carrie smiled at him. “I’m coming with; I haven’t seen deer in ages.”

They went upstairs, and Melanie glanced at her watch. “Almost two hours to dinner. So much has happened today, and it's still so early!”

“Fancy a swim,” Molly said. “I want to move!”

Melanie smiled. “Sure. What about you, Judson?”

“I guess I’ll try and find Shane and knock some sense into him,” Judson sighed. 

Ben grinned. “Good luck with that. I’ll just stay here and stare holes into the Harper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mac - son (Irish/Gaelic)


	50. Fifty

They stepped outside, and Justin blinked his eyes in the bright light.

“Need shades,” Brian offered.

Justin shook his head. “Just takes me a minute,” he said.

Brian moved to the one side, and Justin wondered where they were going. A tall, lush hedge ran down into the distance.

Brian glanced around, and then pulled Justin right into the mass of green leaves. 

Startled, Justin would have called out, but Brian pressed his mouth to his, and so stifled the sound.

Astonished, Justin looked around. They stood on a narrow path, bordered by hedges.

He was about to ask Brian where they were, when they heard voices approaching.

Smiling, Brian drew him into a loose embrace after putting a finger to his lips.

Justin nodded.

“What’s with you,” Justin recognized Vic’s voice.

“Nothing,” Shane’s light baritone replied.

“You knocked on the window, Brian said one word to you, and ever since you're in a mood.”

“I’m not in a mood,” Shane shot back.

“Right,” Vic sounded like he was rolling his eyes. “Justin reminds you of somebody. Who?”

“He doesn't.”

“He does. Judson says you had something against him from the moment you saw him.”

“I don’t like him,” Shane sounded defensive.

“Right. From what I’ve seen, he's an okay-guy. He’s cute. Brian loves him. What’s not to like? That he’s blonder than you?”

“Fuck off, Vic,” Shane sighed.

“I would, but I can't. I’m not letting you get away with hurting them. If you can’t stand it, leave.”

“Are you kicking me out, you little pip-squeak,” Shane laughed.

“Shane. I thought we all agreed to support Brian. Do you consider yourself very supportive?”

Shane drew a deep breath, and Justin felt Brian's hold tighten.

“Nice trump card, you little asshole.”

Vic sighed. “Whatever. Get rid of the feeling, or we’ll get rid of you. Your choice.”

Their footsteps fell away, and Justin cautiously looked up at Brian.

“Don’t say anything,” Brian said, making a face. “That's what you get for eavesdropping.”

“They didn’t see us,” Justin said. “What is this place?”

Brian smiled. “Trust me?”

“I trust you,” Justin smiled back. “Blindly.”

Brian led him down the path, taking a left turn here, and a right turn there.

“A maze,” Justin said, delighted.

“Amazing, huh?” Brian shrugged. “You wanted a maze, you got a maze.”

They finally reached what had to be the center of the labyrinth. There was a gazebo with a drawing-table and two comfortable-looking chairs. To one side there was a well with a tiny sign reading ‘drinking water’, and a sundial stood right in the middle, flanked by two low stone-benches. 

Justin went closer to investigate, comparing the time to his watch. “It’s almost exact,” he said exultantly.

“As exact as possible,” Brian grinned at his exuberance. “Like it?”

“Love it,” Justin said, throwing his arms around Brian. “It’s beautiful!”

Brian hugged back.

After a moment, Justin drew back. “You were waiting for me. All this time.”

Brian’s eyes were dark, and his expression carefully neutral. Too carefully neutral.

Brian looked neutral when really, he was hurting.

“How can I ever make up for that,” Justin murmured, feeling lost.

“Don't,” Brian said forcefully. “It's only time. And that time is over. You’re here now.”

“Come here,” Justin whispered, pulling Brian down on one of the benches. The stone was hard, of course, but he cradled Brian's head in his arms.

That feeling was back, that overwhelming tenderness he had felt that day when he had walked into the nearly empty loft after the Stockwell fiasco.

He had been too slow to get the implications then, but he thought he got most of them now.

Brian would risk everything. His career, his money, his home. If he believed in something, nothing else mattered.

Nothing else matters, Brian had said earlier, after flushing the diamond cuff links down the toilet.

Brian did believe in love. 

In their love. 

Brian had risked his heart, and Justin saw that it was high time he did the same.

Gently, almost hesitantly, he took Brian’s mouth in a sweet kiss, the way he had that day on the bed.

And as he had on that bed, Brian now closed his eyes, moved into his arms and accepted his tenderness.


	51. Fifty-One

Richard scanned the periphery of the forest, aware that the animals were well camouflaged. He had only spotted the deer by chance in the morning, and was now wondering whether they came to their watering hole in the afternoons at all.

“We'll have to tell him, you realize that, don't you?” Carrie sounded weary, Richard thought.

He sighed. “Yes. I knew we'd have to say something when I overheard him with the children earlier. I'll have to talk to Cian first, though.”

“Are we going to tell him now, Richard? Before he goes into treatment?”

“Not a good idea, Carrie. The boy has enough on his plate without that.”

“True,” Carrie sighed heavily. “But still. Just in case...”

Richard turned sharply. “Just in case? In case of what? Don't even think that, Carrie! Don't you even think it. Brian will be fine. He has so much to live for.”

“Does the cancer know that, though,” Carrie shook her head. “Are we protecting him, or are we protecting Cian?”

“Both, if I have my way.” Richard turned back to the window; he didn't want Carrie to see his face just then. He was as worried as she was. Maybe more, because what Brian had told him earlier... No. Best not to dwell on it.

Richard moved his binoculars a bit further into the grounds, and then halted. He took a deep breath, his eyes on the scene for a long moment, and then dropped the binoculars.

“Is something wrong,” Carrie asked with concern. She stepped closer and put a gentle hand on his arm. “Richard? You're actually blushing!”

Richard looked at his pretty wife, and sighed. “I just witnessed something that wasn’t for me to see. I’m ashamed of myself for not looking away immediately, but I’m just so glad I got a glimpse of it.”

Carrie smiled. “Their fault. They should find a room.”

Richard shook his head. “Not that. Just… an incredibly charming moment between our boy and Justin. An intimate, and intensely private moment. I felt like I was intruding.”

“Justin is a darling,” Carrie smiled. “I loved that he handled Ted’s mother!”

“There’s a decent and mature man in with the darling,” Richard said. “I knew he had to be special for Brian to fall in love so hard.”

Carrie nodded. “Of course. I wish our Shane could see that!”

“Yes. He won't just fall out with Brian, but also with Vic and Judson, if he’s not careful!”

“And with me,” Carrie frowned. “I think the heat is getting to everybody.”

“That’s no excuse,” Richard said firmly.

Carrie shrugged. “You're right, it’s not. If you're not waiting for the deer, why don’t we go back downstairs and keep an eye on things?”

“Good idea,” Richard said, locking the binoculars in their wardrobe. “I think the boys will be a while.”

His wife’s smile widened, and he knew why. 

Richard smiled back. “Brian wants him to be part of the family.”

Carrie nodded. “Yes. He asked me to draw Justin in a little while he’s away. I’m glad you’re fond of him.”

“How could I not be fond of him? The expression in Brian's eyes when he looks at Justin is priceless.”

“So is Justin's face when he looks at Brian!”

Hand in hand, Carrie and Richard walked down the stairs.


	52. Fifty-Two

Brian stood staring out of the bedroom window. Damn.

Jim’s face earlier… the man was a good doctor. He was a good friend. A good man. 

But heck, he was a lousy liar.

Don’t worry about the results. They’ll run more tests when you get into hospital next week anyway. 

So why run tests in the first place, Jim?

Don’t worry, huh? Now I’m worried.

Well. He didn’t need Jim to tell him what he already knew. He was losing weight. He had had to buy more belts so his friends wouldn’t notice the new notches every week. He had trouble keeping his food down. There were odd aches and pains that he wasn’t accustomed to. His body didn’t feel like his body anymore. 

He could still get it up, fortunately. How much longer, though? This week. I have to last the week. And then I can start to fight back.

I’m not scared. I’m fucking not scared. Just because my father died of cancer doesn’t mean I will. I fucking won’t.

So, Kinney. Life-support, yes or no? Hope they come up with a cure for cancer within what, the next five years? When they haven’t been able to find one in decades? 

Keep Justin hanging on? Shane? Judson? Worse, my kids? No. There is no way I want Gus to see me with hoses protruding from every orifice. I remember what I felt when I saw Schmidt that time.

Terrifying. Pathetic. Slightly disgusting. No. There’s no cure in sight. Five years from now, and then what? What will I look like? Feel like? No.

Yes, I’ve seen you looking, Justin. The same look Judson had, and Shane. Richard, too, come to think of it. You don’t like it.

I’m sorry, guys. I really am. 

But no. 

Decision made. 

No life-support.

 

Shane was sitting alone on the sofa, staring into space, when Brian walked into the living room.

Brian dropped into the seat next to him and pulled him close. “Bill.”

“Bill,” Shane confirmed wearily, delightedly snuggling into Brian’s embrace.

“Justin is no Bill,” Brian said calmly.

“No Mars bar, no Bill,” Shane sighed. “So, what is he?”

Brian grinned. “He’s Justin, pure and simple. He’s my home. He completes me. And if you repeat that to anybody, I’ll have you murdered.”

Shane frowned. “I’m not getting any of it, you know that?”

“I’m aware,” Brian sighed. “Why do you need to get it?”

“You’re closer to me than anybody else,” Shane admitted softly. “I love you, and I want you happy. I can’t stand to see you get hurt.”

Brian shrugged. “Love hurts, you should know.”

Shane jumped up, suddenly angry again. “I know. I know only too well! That’s why we had a pact, remember?”

Brian looked up at him, the hazel darkening. “I broke that pact before I knew it, Shane.”

Impatiently, Shane ran both hands through his hair. “Fuck that, Brian. I wanted to protect you! And as soon as my back is turned for five minutes, you fall for boy toy?”

He was annoying Brian, Shane realized. It was in the way he tilted his head, just so…

Brian’s eyes narrowed. “Your back was turned for fifteen months, deartháir.”

“If I’d known, I’d never have taken that trip around the world!”

“Don’t fool yourself, Shane. Any excuse to get out of a job,” Brian smirked.

Shane bit his lip. Brian was right. Unlike Brian, he didn’t like having to work. “Why have him back again?”

“Because your back was turned again,” Brian said, coldly this time.

“Now we’re getting to the bottom of things, are we? You take Justin back because I went to New York?”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Contrary to your belief, this solar system doesn’t revolve around you. You went to New York because you didn’t want to deal with my grief over Erin. Which is fine, I don’t have a problem with that. What I do have a problem with is that you project your anger and self-loathing on Justin. Justin left for reasons that are none of your business.”

“Because he was scared of tying the knot,” Shane said angrily.

“He was twenty-two, he had every right to be scared,” Brian said, and Shane realized that Brian’s composure contrasted sharply with his own fury.

“What, after he’s been stalking you for years, trying to persuade you to marry him?”

“You still don't know, do you, Shane? To quote an old TV show, having is often not as pleasing as wanting,” Brian replied.

Shane stared down at Brian. “Fuck you. Don’t you resent him? Just a little bit?”

Brian returned the stare levelly. “Not even a little bit. He’s free to do whatever he wants.”

“Why? And don’t fucking say because you love him,” Shane exploded. “That's not good enough!”

“Shane!” His father’s voice was stern. His parents had come in, and he hadn’t even noticed them. 

Brian turned in his seat. “It’s alright. We’re trying to sort it out.”

Richard shook his head. “You don’t have to explain yourself to Shane, or anybody else for that matter.”

Shane felt mortified when his father favored him with ‘that look’. The look that told him he was crossing borders he had no right to cross.

“I’m aware, athair,” Brian said amiably. “I’d like for Shane to understand.”

Carrie shook her head. “What’s to understand? One look at the pair of you and it’s crystal clear – pun intended.”

Shane sighed. “Justin isn’t right for Brian.”

Carrie frowned. “Who are you to decide that? Do you think Brian would waste any time on Justin if he thought Justin wasn't worth it? Do you think Brian would try again and again to get it right if this wasn't exactly what he wants?”

“You think you finally got it right and then Justin turns Bill on you. I’d like to see your face,” Shane said, surprised at the bitterness in his voice.

“Who is Bill,” Carrie asked.

Brian rubbed his brow. “Get into the library. I’ll go get Justin.”

Shane frowned. “What’s he got to do with it?”

“Honestly,” Carrie muttered disgustedly. “Shane!”

Brian looked at him. “Let’s talk to Justin, rather than about him.”

“He can assure me fifty times that he’s not about to leave again,” Shane frowned. “I won’t believe it.”

Brian rolled his eyes again. “I’m certain your middle name is Thomas for a reason.”

Richard sighed. “I wish we hadn’t,” he said to Carrie. “Nomen est omen, after all.”

“My brother isn’t like that,” Carrie said. “I’ll get glasses. Shane, get something to drink.”

She smiled at Brian. “You go get your favorite.”

Brian raised an eyebrow at her and left.

 

“You didn't know about the living will,” Judson said softly, watching Justin pour himself a glass of juice.

Justin shook his head. “No. Do you think we could get him to change it?”

Judson looked at the younger man thoughtfully. “Depends. How good are you?”

“Good at what,” Justin asked.

Judson grinned. “Torturing him.”

Justin grinned back. “Pretty good. But that never works.”

“I know,” Judson grew serious, sighing. “Shane and I couldn’t get him to budge on the issue, and Richard doesn't believe in interfering in Brian’s decisions. He might just give in to you.”

Thoughtfully sipping his drink, Justin nodded slowly. “I’ll have to think about it. Molly’s arguments didn’t work.”

“Too emotional,” Judson offered.

Justin nodded. “True. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Right now,” Judson grinned and nodded at the door where Brian stood, watching them, “right now, you’re wanted.”

Justin put his empty glass down. He approached Brian and snaked an arm around his waist.

Judson watched and smiled. Brian returned his gaze, lifting one shoulder. Judson’s smile widened.

Justin didn’t wait for Brian to invite his touch, he just naturally touched whenever he could. Brian clearly didn’t mind.

Brian said something that Judson didn't catch, and Justin nodded. They went back inside together.

 

“Let me go wash my hands,” Justin said. “I’ll be right with you.”

Brian nodded, and they went into the bedroom together.

Justin went on into the bathroom, and came back moments later to find Brian leaning against the wall, pensively watching a blue butterfly dancing in the sunlight on the window pane.

Reaching up, Justin pulled Brian into a tender kiss.

“I’ll talk to him, but if he hurts you, I’ll get violent.”

Brian cocked his eyebrow. “Still got that cute pink T-shirt?”

Justin grinned. “I don’t need a T-shirt to slay your dragons.”

“Shane’s been upgraded to dragon, has he,” Brian snorted. “He’ll appreciate that.”

“What was he before,” Justin wondered.

Brian grinned. “A minor nuisance.”

Justin laughed, then grew serious. “Look, I know he means much to you. Wouldn’t it be easier to keep us apart?”

“Easier, yes,” Brian sighed. “I’d prefer if you got along. Give it a shot?”

Justin nodded. “If he weren’t so hostile, I’d not have a problem with him.”

Brian brushed a kiss across his lips, then closed warm fingers on his wrist and drew him from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dearthair - brother (Irish/Gaelic)  
> athair - father (Irish/Gaelic)  
> Nomen est omen - A name is a prediction (Latin)


	53. Fifty-Three

Entering the library, they found Shane curled up on the floor cushions, and Carrie and Richard sitting close together in one of the chairs.

Justin and Brian took the other chair, and Justin sighed contentedly. All these months, he had missed just being close to Brian.

Shane shot him a dirty look, and Justin grinned.

“Get over it, Shane,” Richard sounded irritated.

Shane shrugged. “I’m trying.”

“Very,” Brian muttered darkly.

With a grateful nod, Justin accepted the glass of iced tea Carrie handed him. He passed a glass of water to Brian, who rolled his eyes.

“So,” Justin said, “What can I do for you, Shane?”

Shane leveled a hard stare at Brian, who returned the look coolly.

“It’s not what you can do for me,” Shane finally replied. “What can you do for Brian?”

Justin glanced at Brian, who gazed back with a speculative expression.

“What Shane really wants to know is why you keep coming back,” Brian clarified.

“What Shane really wants to know is why Brian keeps having you back,” Shane said, with an angry look at Brian.

Justin shrugged. “And what is it you want,” he asked, looking at Carrie and Richard.

They exchanged a look, and then Richard said, “For Brian to be happy. For Shane to get off his back, and off yours. For you to know what you want.”

Brian's eyebrows shot up almost into his hairline, and Justin nodded. “I want to know what Brian wants, and how to make sure he gets it.”

“Keep this up and I’ll jump out of the window,” Brian threatened.

“No big deal,” Justin shrugged. “I’ve seen you hop off roofs.”

Brian rolled his eyes again. “Twat,” he murmured.

Justin leaned back against him and smiled.

“You behave like newly-weds,” Shane grouched.

“We always behave like that,” Justin said. “Look, I can tell you why I keep coming back. I don’t quite understand what you hope to get from that, but I’ll tell you.”

Shane nodded. “That’s a start.”

Justin studied the row of books opposite the chair for a long moment. “I fell in love with Brian the moment I saw him. The very next day, Brian made it clear that I was alone with that feeling.”

Justin felt Brian's hold tighten, but as he didn’t say anything, Justin continued, “Somehow, between my father throwing me out and my mother throwing me at Brian, it worked out. But I kept wanting more, and the more I wanted, the more Brian retreated. Looking back, I can see why.”

They shared a smile, and Justin was relieved to see the amusement in Brian’s eyes.

“Then the Pied Piper came along, and I fell for the music like any old rat,” Justin said wearily.

He knew Brian would cuff him before he felt it, and grinned.

“Nobody gets to talk about Justin like that,” Brian growled. “Not even Justin.”

Carrie and Richard laughed, and Shane shook his head.

Slanting a look at Brian, Justin went on, “When I regained my senses, I had to have Brian back. It was like an addiction. I was lucky, because that worked out as well.”

Justin wondered whether Brian had felt anything like that, because he was worrying his lower lip with his teeth. He didn't normally do that, unless something really got to him.

“I don't know how, but we always found our way back to each other,” Justin said softly. “I do know that it’s more than just love.”

Shane raised his eyebrows; and Brian's fingers sneaked between his shirt and the jeans, softly caressing his skin.

Justin looked at Brian, with that overwhelming tenderness washing over him again like a warm wave. An answering light in those warm hazel eyes told him that Brian knew what he meant.

“More than just love,” Shane echoed mockingly. “What’s more than love?”

Justin frowned. “That’s difficult to put into words.”

“Sex,” Shane suggested.

“No,” Justin shook his head. “Don't you see, if it was just sex, Brian wouldn’t have kept me around at all.”

“Oh, and why is that,” Shane asked.

Justin shrugged. “Come on. I was a bloody virgin, and Brian had all the experience in the world. Do you really think he got a big kick out of teaching me how to suck his dick without using my teeth?”

A choked sound from Brian and Shane’s widening eyes alerted Justin to the fact that Carrie and Richard were still in the room.

He felt himself blushing, and Brian used his free arm to pull him closer again, holding him tightly. The fingers of his other hand were still moving on his skin. Justin felt like those fingers were keeping him grounded.

“I told you, he speaks his mind,” Brian grinned.

“A laudable quality,” Richard said wryly, and then added with a wicked grin, “Usually.”

Carrie winked at them. “Now I know it’s more than just sex. You like his quick tongue.”

“Mother!” Shane protested, sniffing.

Brian tried to keep a straight face, but broke up when their eyes met. Justin burst into laughter as well.

Richard shook his head at his wife. “You’ve got the devil in you, woman.”

“Sometimes,” Carrie said cheerfully. “Not nearly often enough, these days.”

Justin looked at Brian to see whether she was aware of the innuendo, and Brian shook his head with a pained expression. Justin grinned again.

“So,” Shane said grumpily. “Thanks for that round of laughs. I still want to know what it is, Justin.”

Justin sighed. “I’m not really sure I can explain. I can tell you that… when I was in New York, I felt like a part of me was missing. I was homesick, not for Pittsburgh, but for Brian.”

He met Brian’s eyes. “You make me whole. You’re my home.”

Brian's smile was bright and unguarded. 

Justin couldn't resist, he had to kiss him, there and then.

Brian exhaled, hugging him tightly.

“Justin,” Carrie’s gentle voice was no intrusion. “What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word match?”

“Equal,” Justin said instantly.

Brian pushed his tongue into his cheek, his eyes clear and warm.

“And you, Richard,” Carrie asked.

“Zippo,” Richard grinned.

Carrie looked at Shane, who sighed. “Game, set. Why?”

Carrie smiled at Brian, then at her son. “Find somebody who thinks sports, and you might have found your match.”

Shane grimaced. “What’s this, Litmus for partner compatibility?”

Justin swallowed. Partner. Not a good word, around Brian.

Brian pulled him back against his chest, his breath warm on his neck. Justin relaxed.

“I know you’ll tell me you plan on staying, this time,” Shane challenged. “Why would anybody believe you?”

Thoughtfully, Justin chewed on his thumbnail until Brian pulled his hand away from his mouth.

Justin shrugged. “You don’t want to believe me. There’s nothing I can say to convince you, or anybody else.”

Shane raised his brows. “How did you convince Brian?”

“I didn’t,” Justin sighed. “Brian isn’t like that, don’t you see?”

“I’ll tell you what I see,” Shane said softly, dangerously. “I see that Brian fell for you, hard and heavy. You’re playing his emotions like that fiddler played his violin. And like the fiddler, when you get fed up, you leave the violin behind and do something else; expecting the violin to be in the place you left it should you decide to return.”

Justin had felt Brian’s reaction, even though he was pretty sure the others hadn’t seen the subtle move.

Unhappily, he looked at Brian. “Brian…” 

But he trailed off. Words were not enough.

Brian sighed. “You can’t describe sound to a deaf man.”

Brian looked at Shane. “Justin isn’t the violinist. He’s the music. Without music, the violin is useless.”

Justin closed his eyes, biting his lip. He had seen that Shane made Brian vulnerable, and that Brian didn't object to it.

Now he saw that Brian was as vulnerable as he was strong, and wondered whether you could have one without the other.

“The music has even less justification to leave than the fiddler,” Shane commented.

Justin took a deep breath. “Without the instrument, the music can’t be heard. One is nothing without the other.”

Shane sat forward. “So why leave?”

“The moment I shut the door of the loft behind me, I knew I was making a mistake. A mistake bigger than Ethan, or Hollywood, or hetero life,” Justin said earnestly. “And my stupid pride wouldn't let me go back and beg Brian to forgive me, yet again. I don’t know why I left, damn you!”

His voice had risen; he was frustrated and angry; frustrated with himself, and angry with Shane for prodding him.

Brian reached for the glass and finished his water.

Justin tried to read his expression and couldn’t. If Brian wanted to be inscrutable, he always was.

Shane slapped his flat hand on the floor. “Fine. Justin leaves, and doesn't know why. Do you know why, Brian? Because if you don’t, that unknown reason might just crop up again!”

“What do you want from me, Shane,” Brian asked resignedly. “I lock my doors to keep people out, not to keep them in.”

Shane sighed gustily, and Justin sensed that Shane was just as frustrated as he himself was.

“So if Justin wants to pack his bags tomorrow, you’ll let him go?”

“Yes.”

“What do you mean, yes,” Shane exhaled angrily.

Brian shrugged. “I don't take on pointless projects.”

“And keeping Justin is pointless?”

“No,” Brian sighed. “Trying to keep him is pointless. If he feels the urge to go, I’ll let him go.”

“You’re giving me a headache,” Shane muttered.

“You're giving us a headache,” Carrie contradicted. “Brian and Justin have been kind enough to explain their feelings to you. You didn’t really want an explanation. What you want is indemnity.”

Shane looked at Brian, and Justin had the distinct impression that both of them forgot they weren’t alone.

“Are you sure,” Shane asked, his voice urgent.

“I’m sure,” Brian said firmly.

Shane shook his head and fell back into the cushions. “Justin. You leave Brian this time, you’ll never paint again,” he said, addressing the ceiling.

Justin snorted derisively. “I got news for you. I can’t work anyway when I’m away from Brian.”

“Shane. You don’t threaten Justin,” Brian said, his voice dark and dangerous. “You don’t have that right.”

“I didn’t actually mean it,” Shane said wearily. “You’re so fucking frustrating!”

“Likewise,” Brian shot back.

Shane turned his head, looking at Justin. Their eyes met and held. “You meant what you said about wanting to know what Brian wants?”

Justin nodded silently.

“Fool,” Shane sighed. “He wants you. It’s really all he wants.”

Justin looked at Brian, who narrowed his eyes at Shane. 

Then he sat forward and met Shane’s eyes again. “He’s got me,” Justin said. “For good. You don’t have to believe me. Wait and see.”

Slowly, Shane nodded. “I can get behind that.”

Brian slanted a look at Carrie and Richard. “Drama queens. Both of them.”

“I’m so glad I married a pragmatic, reasonable woman,” Richard smiled. “How do you cope, mac?”

Brian shrugged. “You get used to the girls.”

 

Carrie raised an eyebrow at her son. “So, Shane. Who is Bill?”

Shane looked at Brian, as if searching for help. 

Brian shrugged. “Your call.”

“You knew Bill,” Richard asked.

“Intimately,” Brian grimaced.

“I don’t want to talk about him,” Shane sighed.

Carrie frowned. “Right. You expect Brian and Justin to spill their guts, but you won’t?”

Shane sighed again.

“Give, Shane,” Richard demanded quietly. “Fair is fair.”

Shane looked at Brian again, and Carrie saw that Brian pulled Justin closer to him. Protectively? Or possessively? She couldn’t tell.

“Bill,” Shane said, taking a deep breath. “Bill is this gorgeous, bright blond beauty. Blue eyes, great body.”

Brian’s hold on Justin was possessive, Carrie decided.

Shane glared at Justin. “He looks just like you.”

Justin snorted, and Brian’s lids fluttered.

That didn't go down well, with either of them, Carrie thought, wondering why Shane wasn’t using past tense.

“We met at college,” Shane continued. “Just my type.”

Justin turned his head to gaze at Brian. They exchanged a look, and Justin visibly relaxed into Brian’s embrace.

“Bill is intelligent, cute, witty. Sexy. I fell for him, and we got together. Then he left. End of story,” Shane finished quickly.

Carrie looked at Richard, who raised his eyebrows. “Concise. The kind of witness I hate in the stand,” he said. “Elaborate, Brian.”

“Why me,” Brian said, sounding surprised.

“Because getting the story from Shane will be like extracting teeth. You are much more forthcoming.”

“And way more honest,” Justin cut in, grinning.

Brian tilted his head, his eyes questioning Shane. 

Carrie had always loved how Brian could communicate without a word.

Shane lifted his shoulders, rolled onto his stomach and put his chin on his crossed arms, staring at the carpet.

“Christ, Shane. That’s ancient history,” Brian sighed.

Without moving, Shane shot him a look Carrie couldn’t interpret. “It's not.”

Brian sat forward so abruptly that only his quick reflexes saved Justin from ending up on the floor. 

“Asshole,” Justin mumbled, shaking his head at Brian, who pulled him back into the seat with an apologetic smile.

Carrie shot Richard a quick look, and they shared a grin.

“You know about the proverbial bad penny,” Shane said, his voice strained. “You know all about it.” He shot Justin another dark look.

“What happened,” Brian demanded. “Tell me!”

Shane shook his head. “That's privileged information. I’ll tell you, but not now.”

Brian’s eyes had hardened. “Shane. You didn’t.”

“Fuck off,” Shane muttered.

Brian sat back in the chair, with Justin almost in his lap.

Carrie wondered whether Justin was comfortable, but he had slanted one look at Brian and then settled against him.

Brian’s face was calm, but Carrie had known her boy for years. Brian was fuming.

“Bill was gorgeous. Intelligent. Cute. Witty. Sexy. And one of the most opportunistic bastards I’ve ever met,” Brian said evenly.

“He wasn’t gay, but he latched onto me, stealing my work when he could, or else copying my ideas. I didn’t care, he was fun in bed, and I had more ideas than I could have incorporated into what we were doing at college. Years later I saw that he was still making a living on what he stole from me.”

Justin drew a sharp breath between his teeth, and Brian smirked at him. “I had already outgrown those ideas.”

Justin raised an eyebrow, looking at Brian skeptically. “It’s not that you needed the ideas. It’s still plagiarism.”

Brian shrugged. “Whatever. What I didn’t know was that Bill also went out with Shane. I found out, I confronted him. He made no bones about it, said he was after Shane for his money and the doors he could open for him; and he was after me for my looks and my brains. I kicked him out. I made Shane kick him out.”

Shane looked up at Brian, and Carrie could see the pain lurking in those dark eyes.

Brian sighed. “Shane was in love with the fucking jerk. I wasn’t. That’s when we decided we couldn’t afford to fall in love with anybody.”

“Yeah, and a mere eight years later, you changed your tune,” Shane said bitterly.

“I grew up,” Brian said coldly. “Maybe it’s time you tried that.”

Carrie could see the sparks flashing in her son’s eyes. Shane had always had a temper.

“Right,” Shane said. “You grew up when you fucked Justin.”

“Shane!” Richard’s voice was sharp.

“No,” Brian said quietly. “I grew up when I realized Justin is more than a fuck.”

Justin was frowning at Shane. “So, all this shit is because of your history?”

Shane frowned back. “That’s really none of your business.”

“I make it my business,” Justin said sharply. “Especially when you’re trying to influence Brian against me.”

“Yo bitches,” Brian sighed. “If you two get into a cat fight, I’ll go get the garden hose.”

Justin bit his lip, glancing at Brian from under his lashes. “Look, Brian, you know I put up with a lot of shit. But I’m not going to put up with Shane’s attitude, just because he used to fuck somebody who wasn't worth it.”

“Like you know what that’s like,” Shane said angrily.

“I know exactly what that’s like,” Justin said heatedly. “I know how much you hate yourself for falling for it, and for making that mistake. It’s not my fault you made that mistake, though.”

“No,” Shane snorted. “Because you were still in school.”

“Yeah,” Justin shot back. “I’ll always be younger, cuter, and blonder than you are. And I’ll have Brian, and you won’t.”

The deafening silence that followed made the outside sounds more pronounced. Carrie could hear Gus and JR giggling, and the light voices of Melanie, Leda, and Molly mingling with the children’s laughter.

“Justin's intelligence and intuition,” Brian said finally. “As explosive a combination as bourbon and beans.”

Justin sniggered.

Shane didn’t look up. He had dropped his face into his folded arms, and was struggling to control his breathing.

Justin shrugged, leaned his forehead against Brian's for a moment, and whispered something Carrie couldn’t make out. 

“We’ll be right outside,” Justin said aloud, motioning to her and Richard with a quick jerk of his head toward the door.

Carrie looked at Richard, who nodded. They rose and left, closing the door quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mac - son (Irish/Gaelic)


	54. Fifty-Four

“Shane,” Brian's voice was gentle. “Is Justin right?”

Damn. Another reason to hate the kid. When really, there was no reason. Justin was alright.

“You know he is,” Shane said to the carpet. “Was, anyway.” 

He studied the soft strands that were so comfortable to lie on. A nice, warm color. Fluffy threads that looked supple, and were. 

A carpet like Brian. Firm, yet flexible. Safe ground to fall back on, welcoming.

Shane sighed. “I was just comparing you to your carpet.”

Startled, Brian laughed. “Thanks. You saying you can walk all over me?”

Shane looked up, meeting the amused hazel eyes. “No. You're there, you’re reliable. You’re warm, and you’re unobtrusive.”

“And you’re nuts,” Brian sighed, stretching out on his belly next to him, his chin on his crossed arms. “How long has Bill been on the Kinnetik payroll?”

“Three months,” Shane admitted quietly. “He does have good ideas.”

“My ideas,” Brian snorted indignantly. “I’m paying somebody to exploit my ideas?”

Shane sighed. “I still felt it. Still do.”

“You don’t stop, just because they walk out,” Brian said. “Or because they cheat and lie to your face.”

“It hurts like hell,” Shane bit his lip. “I don’t want you to hurt like that.”

Brian shrugged. “Been there, done that. I need for you to fire Bill.”

“Done that,” Shane sighed. “Last Friday.”

They studied the carpet for a while, each man lost in his own thoughts.

“I love you, Shane,” Brian said finally. “But not like that.”

“I know,” Shane sighed. “I’m over it, Brian.”

“You were jealous of Bill, not of me.”

“First Erin, then him,” Shane said softly. “It was a bit much.”

Brian took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I’m a guy,” Shane said defensively. “I don’t talk about my feelings.”

“You’re a gay guy. It's all they ever talk about,” Brian protested.

“They,” Shane shot back.

“I don’t discuss my feelings,” Brian murmured. “You know that.”

“I’m sorry I left.”

He felt Brian's shrug more than he saw it. “Sorry is bullshit.”

“Why is sorry bullshit?”

“You did what you needed to do. Why apologize for that?”

“Your old credo. No apologies. No excuses. No regrets.”

“No apologies,” Brian said. “They’re unnecessary. You can only ever get it right for one person. It might as well be you. If people were honest, they’d admit they look out for number one. It’s human. No excuses. Looking out for yourself is alright, no explanations are needed. No regrets. You can’t change the past.”

Shane rested his cheek on his folded arms, studying his friend. “That’s why you’re so forgiving?”

“I guess,” Brian murmured. “Grudges give you ulcers.”

“And wrinkles,” Shane grinned.

Brian smirked at him. “We can’t afford wrinkles. We have to be young and beautiful forever.”

“You will be,” Shane said firmly.

“If I die young,” Brian said wryly.

Shane drew a sharp breath. “You will not fucking die young. You’re not fucking James Dean. You have more in you than three films and a photo-shoot!”

Brian met his eyes. “Will you look after Justin?”

Shane blinked the sudden tears away. “Fuck you, Brian. If you don’t make it, I’ll come after you and drag you back here.”

“I’m no Eurydice,” Brian sighed. “And you’re definitely the kind of person who’ll turn around.”

Shane held his eyes. “I’ll look after him. I’ll look after Vic, and Gus, and the other one.”

Brian nodded. “Thank you. I trust you.”

“That’s what blood brothers are for, right,” Shane said softly. “But I expect you to make it, damn you.”

Brian shrugged, and studied the carpet once more. “It's the third chemo, Shane.”

“I’m aware. Your heart wasn't in the other two,” Shane tilted his head. “Will it be in this one?”

Brian looked at him. “Yes.”

“For Justin.”

“Because of Justin,” Brian amended quietly.

“Fine. It’s all about Justin. I won’t say another word. I’ll treat him nice.”

Brian rolled onto his back, and pulled Shane into a firm embrace. “You're my brother, Shane. I need for you to get along with my lover.”

“Your match,” Shane snorted into Brian’s shoulder. “Cute, Brian.”

Brian slapped his butt and pushed him away. “Go find your match, you idiot. You're not getting any younger.”

“Gee, thanks, I needed that,” Shane sighed and scrambled to his feet.

Brian rose more gracefully, and they hugged again before leaving the library together.

 

“Will they be alright,” Justin asked worriedly. “Brian doesn’t need more shit today.”

Richard looked at the younger man; Carrie saw the kindness in her husband’s eyes. 

“They always make up,” Richard sighed. “Once Brian understands where Shane is coming from, he cuts him some slack.”

“How did you know about Shane,” Carrie asked quietly.

Justin dropped into a chair, and she and Richard settled in the next one.

“The way he's so worried about Brian,” Justin sighed. “He’s so desperate to protect him. I know what that feels like, and I know why you feel like that.”

Carrie shook her head. “I never suspected.” 

She looked at Richard. “Did you?”

“I’m not sure,” Richard murmured. “Sometimes, when they were with Erin, I thought… but I don’t know.”

Justin rubbed his temples.

“Headache,” Carrie asked sympathetically.

Justin shrugged. “Migraine.”

“You were very nice about the whole thing,” Richard said gently. “Thank you.”

Justin shrugged again. “I need to be a better partner for Brian. He wants me to get along with Shane, so I’ll do what I can to make that happen. Maybe Shane will find it easier to accept me once he knows me a bit better.”

“Shane will find it easier once he gets over his jealousy,” Carrie said sharply. “I’m sorry one of my sons is such a fool.”

Justin smiled at her, his smile bright. “The other one more than makes up for it.”

Carrie returned the smile. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“I’ll go take my meds,” Justin sighed. “Back in a jiffy.”

They watched him leave and then Richard pressed his lips to her temple. “It actually looks like this could work out, after all.”

Carrie smiled at him. “It really does, doesn’t it.”

 

Shane and Brian came out of the library together, and Shane vanished outside with a curt nod.

Brian dropped into Justin’s chair, and stole a quick mouthful of his guava juice.

“Did you sort things out,” Richard asked.

Brian shrugged. “I always sort things out.”

Justin came back, snuggled into the chair with him, and rubbed his cheek against Brian’s arm. “You okay?”

Brian smiled at him. “Just dandy.”

Justin nodded thoughtfully. “No more private meetings today, or tomorrow, Brian. Nothing else to be sorted out. You were supposed to have the week off.”

“And just who do you think you are,” Brian asked, his face stern, but Carrie saw the twinkle in his eyes.

“Your self-appointed sentinel,” Justin said dryly.

“Your bodyguard,” Richard raised an eyebrow.

“Somatophylax,” Carrie grinned. “Your Hephaistion.”

Brian shook his head. “I think I’ll go with Garm.”

“I thought you didn’t want a dog,” Justin grinned.

“Mr. Kinney, the caterer is here,” Andrea announced from the kitchen.

Brian got to his feet. “Saved by the bell. You guys are getting worse.”

Grinning, they joined him.

 

Remos Catering had set up their Hawaiian Pig Roast on the patio, replete with accouterments.

Justin shook his head. Only Brian could turn Pittsburgh into a Maui beach.

Chicken Teriyaki, roast pig, Kona sweet potatoes, watermelon boats filled with tropical fruit salads, pineapple slaw and grilled vegetables together with fresh rolls and butter were spread out for a feast. 

Hibiscus flowers, hula-hoops and palm trees, artificial parrots and strategically placed bamboo mats combined with blow-up fish and coconuts into a very gaudy, yet tasteful scene. 

To one side, there was a bamboo bar with three stools. Lindsay had already homed in on the bar and was sipping a cocktail. Everybody else crowded around the grill, and the buffet.

Clouds darkened the sky, giving an impression of early dusk.

Justin dashed inside and fetched his sketchbook and pencils. He worked quickly, without having to think about texture or composition. The image flowed onto paper almost without his aid, and he lost himself in the feeling he had missed for the last months.

The aromas were appetizing, teasing him, but Justin ignored his growling stomach. He knew he could get several decent drawings out of this one scene, and he wanted, wanted those drawings.

Finally satisfied, he sighed happily and closed the sketchbook. 

It was only then that he became aware of somebody’s silent scrutiny.

He looked up into Brian's warm eyes.

“Come and eat,” Brian said indulgently, gesturing.

Justin grinned. “I couldn’t resist.”

Brian nodded. “If you don’t hurry up, the kids will eat it all.”

“Have you eaten?”

“I’m waiting for you.”

Justin put his things on the window ledge and snaked an arm around Brian’s waist, pulling him close. “Space.”

Brian raised his eyebrows, his eyes widening for a moment. “Carbon,” he said tolerantly.

“Ocean,” Gus said.

Startled, Justin looked at the boy. 

Brian smiled.

“Your turn,” Gus looked at Justin expectantly. “A.”

Justin frowned. “Why A?”

Gus rolled his eyes, and Brian drew his lips into his mouth.

“C from space, O from carbon. A from ocean,” Gus explained patiently.

“Oh,” Justin said, still confused. “Ace.”

“Christ,” Brian smirked.

“Space,” Gus said triumphantly, and Brian laughed.

“You win, sonny-boy. Well done!”

Gus beamed at Brian.

“I sense sub-text,” Leda smiled. “Lots and lots of sub-text.”

“Maybe some sub-plot, even,” Daphne added.

Brian shook his head. “Let’s go get some sustenance, Justin.”

Justin shrugged and followed Brian.

“Let’s sit far, far away from that lot,” Brian whispered. “They’re on a roll.”

Justin grinned. “You got it.”

Brian filled their plates with chicken and fruit salad for himself, and roast pig and sweet potatoes for Justin. Justin fetched their drinks.

They sat with Carrie and Richard, and Ken and Dave joined them.

“Lovely treat, Brian,” Ken smiled. “You’re spoiling us.”

Brian grinned. “I thought you wanted to be Friar Tuck. We really need to feed you up for that.”

Dave laughed. “Funny, we’re always losing weight when we’re with you. We’re not exactly jumping off roofs at home!”

“What do you do at home,” Brian asked, frowning. “No sex, no fun, no work… how do you make time pass?”

“Dave plays a devastating game of Scrabble,” Ken grinned.

“Jeez. Remind me never to visit,” Brian made a face.

Melanie came up, put an arm around Brian’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek, surprising Justin. “I seem to remember you play a mean game of Scrabble.”

Justin tried to keep a straight face. He was quite sure Brian had never played Strip Scrabble with the munchers!

Dave met his eyes, and gave a meaningful wink. 

Justin chortled.

Brian smiled at Mel. “I wouldn’t trade Scrabble for sex, though.”

“You can do both,” Ken said, playfully leering at Brian.

“I can,” Brian peered at Ken from under his lashes. “Do. Both. I’m very good. At a lot of things.”

Mel straightened and grinned. “I don’t want to know.”

Vic sauntered up to them and leaned over Brian, pressing his lips to Brian’s temple. “I want to know. Do tell.”

Justin rolled his eyes, returning Carrie’s smile.

A movement caught his eye, and he saw Lindsay turn and stare at Brian with what looked like an angry frown.

Brian inclined his head and fluttered his lashes flirtatiously. “I’m not sure you’re the right person to share that information with,” he said coyly.

“I can be right. Just right for you,” Vic said in a stage whisper.

“Let’s discuss that in private. Sometime soon,” Brian whispered back huskily.

Richard sighed and smiled at Justin. “One alone is bad. Both of them together are trouble. With a capital T.”

Justin winked at Richard and then said seriously, “You see that a lot in children’s peer groups. Boys of the same age egg each other on.”

Everybody laughed, but Brian and Vic both gave him a hard stare.

Justin just smiled sweetly.

“I think he thinks he’s dinky ,” Vic murmured, faking a British accent.

“He’s dinky alright,” Brian said, making it sound as though he came from Georgia.

Jim sat in the chair next to Justin and grinned at him. “You keep an eye on those boys. The trouble they get into!”

Justin smiled back. “Do tell.”

“Don’t,” Brian and Vic said in unison.

Jim shrugged. “Brian. College. Art Classes.”

“You took art,” Justin asked, astonished.

“I’m not very good,” Jim grinned. “Not like Adrienne. But I’m interested. And watching Brian get into trouble was worth it.”

“Spill,” Ken urged.

“Yes,” Richard smiled. “Do.”

Carrie nodded encouragingly.

“We’re doing this portrait,” Jim grinned. “A really hot guy. Now, we’re supposed to do the face, right?”

Grinning, they all nodded.

“So Brian does this portrait, and he’s good at those,” Jim continued.

“Wait, wait. Brian is good at doing portraits? How come you don’t do any,” Ken asked.

Brian looked at Justin, and Justin felt he could almost read his thoughts. Brian wouldn't tell a lie, but he didn’t want to tell the truth, either.

“Anything else,” Justin grinned. “Do you know how long it takes for a decent portrait? Brian doesn’t have the time.”

“Well, can’t you make do with one less fuck and get some art project done,” Dave suggested.

Brian stared at him, his eyes wide and disbelieving. “Why would I do that? If you want art, talk to Justin!”

“Brian won’t budge,” Carrie smiled. “We’ve tried everything we can think of!”

“Have you seen any of his stuff,” Ken asked.

Carrie slanted a look at Brian, and then nodded. “Some. We have his portrait of Erin and Vic in the living room, when Vic was about ten. It's beautiful.”

“Okay, less flattery, and more about the hot guy,” Vic pressed.

“But we’re already talking about Brian,” Justin said innocently.

Brian kicked his ankle, gently, and Vic groaned.

Jim grinned. “Well. Our teacher is this old, old lady. A spinster. The kind of person who discusses the attributes of Michelangelo’s David and blushes.”

Brian sighed and leaned back in his chair, sipping his wine.

“Now, Brian being Brian…”

Everybody grinned at Brian, who raised an aloof eyebrow.

“… he liked the guy. What was his name again?”

Brian shrugged. “I can tell you 10 inches, cut, but other than that…”

“Honestly,” Richard murmured, but he was smiling.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jim shrugged. “So, Brian’s portrait is all finished, Ms. Freeman is duly impressed and awards Brian a straight A.”

Justin shot a quick look at Brian, wondering why a career in art hadn’t appealed to him. He thought Brian was damn good, and clearly, he wasn’t alone with his opinion.

Brian smiled at him, as though he had read the thought. “I didn't want to be a starving artist, Justin. I did want to be in advertising.”

“Besides,” Shane said, stealing one of the mango-slices Brian had left on his plate, “He didn’t trust Ms. Freeman’s assessment.”

Brian smirked. “Did you?”

“Ugh,” Shane mumbled, helping himself to some more fruit from Brian’s plate. “No, not really.”

“Straight Cs,” Jim grinned. “And that was her being nice.”

Richard smiled and shook his head. “And still, you had to show your pictures.”

Shane grinned. “I was young and needed the money.”

Brian and Vic groaned, and Carrie rolled her eyes.

“So,” Vic said. “Go on, Jim.”

Jim winked at Brian, who returned the look with a cocked eyebrow. 

Justin could see the amusement twinkling in his eyes, and was glad that Brian seemed to relax.

“We’re all sitting there, struggling with our portraits in their various stages. I’m sure you know what that’s like,” Jim nodded at Justin.

Justin nodded back and sighed gustily, remembering classes when his gimp hand hadn’t allowed him to keep up; remembering his frustration and annoyance with those who worked faster, or seemed more talented. 

Somehow, he was glad Brian hadn’t been in his class.

“Brian is bored and giving Sherman – for that was his name - one of his patented ‘let’s fuck’ looks,” Shane grinned. “And Sherman is making eyes back at Brian, like you wouldn’t believe.”

“And then,” Jim continued, smirking,” Brian gets back to work. And does this full frontal nude. A very detailed nude.”

“Brian has photographic memory,” Justin kept his eyes on Brian, who looked back impassively.

“That’s what we thought,” Shane laughed. “It was one hell of a study, mind.”

“It was one hell of a model,” Brian said serenely, making everybody laugh.

Jim leaned back in his chair, taking a thoughtful sip of his wine. “Poor Ms. Freeman was scandalized. She awarded Brian another A for the study. And then she kicked him out for the month.”

Carrie shook her head, smiling. Richard sighed and raised a questioning eyebrow at Brian.

“How was I to know that dear Ms. Freeman was Sherman’s dear auntie,” Brian said demurely.

Everybody groaned.

“Vic,” Jim grinned. “School. Show and tell.”

Brian sat forward. “Tell.”

“Not that one,” Vic pleaded. “Please, Jim. He’ll kill me.”

“You deserve it,” Richard said sternly. “If it's the one I’m thinking of.”

Brian frowned at Carrie. “How come I don’t know?”

“It was a conspiracy. We thought he should live to see his 21st birthday,” Carrie winked at Brian.

“He might not see his next one,” Brian crossed his arms and favored Vic with a forbidding glare.

Vic took a step backward. “I promise I’ll be good from now on. It’ll never happen again, I swear.”

“Too late,” Gus said, crawling into Brian’s lap. “If you’ve done it once, you're likely to do it again.”

“Does he always quote you verbatim, Brian?” Ken smiled at Gus.

“I remember what my daddy says,” Gus shrugged. “What did Vic do, Daddy?”

Brian smiled and offered him some orange juice. “We’re about to find out.”

Gus settled comfortably against his father, looking at Jim. “Go on then, I’m curious!”

“So am I,” Brian said, sounding deceptively mild.

“Teacher thought it would be brilliant to come up with something new for show and tell,” Jim smirked at Brian.

Brian raised an eyebrow again, and Justin suddenly realized that Jim had known Brian for ages. Since college! Wow.

“So, these kids are about what, ten? Eleven, tops,” Brian mused.

Jim nodded. “About that age, yes. Show and tell. Three things your favorite adult likes to do.”

Brian's eyes widened, and Vic took another step back.

Justin watched the amusement flicker on Carrie’s and Richard’s faces as they traded glances.

“Little Victor steps up to the front of the class,” Jim said, and Vic stepped back another pace. “He shows them a set of car keys, because his favorite adult loves to drive his Jeep. He plays them a cassette tape, because his favorite loves to dance with his mommy.”

Jim smiled at Vic, it looked devilish. “And then he shows them a used condom, because his favorite loves to have sex with hot guys.”

As soon as Jim had said ‘condom’, Gus slipped off Brian's lap, grinning widely at Justin.

Brian dashed after Vic, who was running for his life.

Laughing, Justin pulled Gus into his lap. “Don’t you go copying that idea.”

“I wouldn't take a used condom, my daddy says touching them is unhygienic,” Gus commented, helping himself to a slice of mango from Brian’s plate. “He doesn’t like mango, but I do.”

Justin shook his head, amazed how that kind of talk didn't seem to affect the kid at all.

“Facts of life, perfectly natural,” Carrie said quietly. “Better than being prudish.”

“Are your drawings private, Justin,” Ken asked.

Justin shook his head. “No. Take a look if you want.”

Ken rose and fetched the sketchpad, studying the pages. Dave leaned on his shoulder, and Richard rose to stand behind them.

“That's not my best work,” Justin said a little defensively. “Those are just rough drafts.”

Ken turned the page, and looked up at Dave, then at him. “That’s a rough draft? How much, Justin?”

“What have you got?”

Ken held up the study of Brian kneeling.

“Not for sale,” Shane sighed. “If you beg, he’ll run you a Xerox.”

“Please put that away before Brian comes back,” Justin said.

“Put what away,” Brian asked, returning to the patio with his arm around Vic, who looked tousled and ready to drop.

“Guys,” Justin said pleadingly.

“I want it,” Ken grinned.

Justin shook his head. “Nothing doing. That’s mine.”

“We’ll show him,” Dave threatened, teeth flashing.

“It’s not for sale,” Justin said firmly.

“Alright,” Ken held up the drawing for Brian to see.

Brian reached over and took it off him, angling it into the light.

Brian considered the drawing for a long time, without saying a word.

Justin found that he couldn't hold his breath for that long, but he tensed as second after second ticked by.

Everybody else was silent, too, and Justin knew that he would remember this moment. 

Soft lights flickering, a man’s light tenor singing ‘I like you’ in the background, and Leda’s and Molly’s low voices from the other end of the table…

Brian’s face, candle light dancing on his features, making him more inscrutable than ever.

Finally, Brian met his eyes. “A word with you, Justin?”

“Sure,” Justin had just enough breath for the one syllable. 

Was Brian angry? If so, why? His voice was so even; Justin couldn't tell what Brian was thinking. As usual, Brian's face didn't give anything away, either.

Gently setting Gus on his feet, Justin rose and held his hand out for his sketches.

Ken handed them over, looking at him apologetically.

Justin lifted one shoulder and followed Brian inside, wondering how he had managed to get himself into trouble this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dinky – cute, adorable in British English  
>  dinky – tacky in American English


	55. Fifty-Five

Brian went upstairs. He had already unlocked the door to the study when Justin reached the top of the stairs.

Brian raised an eyebrow at him. “You need to use the gym. You’re way too young to be that out of shape.”

Justin sighed, wondering whether to say that it was his reluctance to face Brian that slowed him down, or to remind Brian that he had had plenty of workouts last night, this morning, and throughout the day, thank you so very much.

He walked past Brian into the study, saying nothing. He didn’t have enough air.

Brian locked the door and held out his hand. “Show me the rest.”

It wasn’t even a question, Justin noted. Sighing again, he handed the sketches over.

Brian sat at the desk, pulled the lamp into place, and went through his work, all without a word.

Biting his lip, his nervousness increasing, Justin went to look at his painting of the orchids. Even with the slowly fading daylight, the colors were vibrant. He was satisfied with his work, but he could see he needed to do more still lifes. Needed to do more work with acrylics. That shadow there, that wasn’t quite the way he had wanted it. The angle of light, he might have been able to… or maybe not? 

Brian was quiet for a long time, and by the time he switched off the lamp, Justin hated the stupid orchids and was about ready to jump out of his skin.

“Justin?”

Brian sounded puzzled.

“Yeah?” Monosyllables. Otherwise he’d run out of air, Justin figured.

Surprising him, Brian came to stand next to him and pulled him into an embrace. “What’s wrong, why are you shivering like that? It’s not cold in here?”

Shit, he was shivering, too, Justin belatedly realized. He leaned into Brian. “You make me nervous,” he murmured, feeling awkward.

Brian tipped up his chin with gentle fingers, and Justin did his best to avoid that analytical look. It wasn't easy, at such close proximity.

“Christ,” Brian exhaled and tightened his hold. “What did you think, that I’d beat up on you?”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Justin sighed. “I hate when you’re angry with me.”

“And do I have reason to be angry,” Brian asked.

Justin shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“How long have we known each other,” Brian snorted.

Justin met his eyes. “Three days, since Friday.”

“Oh, that’s cute, Justin,” Brian scoffed. “Right. Let me tell my new boyfriend that – unlike said boyfriend - I’m not in the habit of beating up on people. Let me also tell you – I’d remind you, but we don't know each other at all yet, do we – that I am in the habit of doing a lot of yelling when I’m pissed off. When I’m quiet, it simply means I’m preoccupied. Got that?”

“Yes, Sir,” Justin knew his grin was watery.

Brian rolled his eyes. “Have you always been this insecure around me?”

Justin thought. “Sometimes. Like when you came home that day my mother took all my shit to your office? You were pretty intimidating.”

Brian nodded slowly. “Yeah. It did feel as though she had dumped her kid on me. You didn’t register as potential partner on my screen.”

“Has that changed,” Justin wanted to know. “You did just call me your boyfriend.”

“I was being sarcastic,” Brian frowned. “Boyfriends are for breeders.”

“Match,” Justin suggested, as Carrie’s words suddenly made sense.

“Match,” Brian agreed readily.

“So why were you preoccupied?”

“Those drawings,” Brian gestured. “You still steal pictures.”

“I don’t steal them,” Justin protested. “I see something I like, I put it on paper.”

Brian cocked his eyebrow. “You’re back to stalking me. You didn’t just see the Harley on Liberty Avenue. And you sneaked into the bedroom, too.”

“A lot of people see you on Liberty, I didn't even know you’d be there that day. And the bedroom door was open.”

Brian sighed. “You're not getting me, Justin. Either those drawings are meant for your own collection, which is fine. Only, then you can’t show them to other people, like Shane or Ken. Or they’re meant to be seen, in which case you did steal them.”

“Shane told you,” Justin gritted his teeth.

“Shane tells me everything,” Brian said levelly. “Absolutely everything, Justin.”

“He goes repeating private conversations,” Justin frowned.

“Yes. If he thinks I need the information.”

Justin thought fervently. What had he been talking about to Shane?

Brian smirked. “Worried?”

Justin shrugged. “I’m not sure. Should I be?”

“You tell me,” Brian sighed. “You seem apprehensive where Shane’s influence over me is concerned.”

“Does he have any?”

“Some,” Brian said. “A lot, come to think of it.”

“Do you tell him absolutely everything?”

Brian snorted. “Heavens, no.”

“Interesting,” Justin murmured. He had almost forgotten what the discussion was about, but Brian’s next words reminded him.

“I’d rather not find those drawings of me in any shop window, Justin.”

Justin stared at him. How had Brian found out about that?

Brian drew his lips into his mouth. “I know a lot of people, Justin. Many people know me. Somebody phoned and said that they liked my portrait in Marjorie Murphy’s shop window. I assume she’s the little old lady selling your drawings for you?”

Mutely, Justin nodded.

“I’m okay with that, Justin. I of all people should know the value of good advertising. But that drawing of the kids in bed with us three adults… even Emmett has already commented on that. I can’t afford for that to be seen outside this house. Do you understand?”

Damn. He hadn't even thought of those implications. If Claire had gotten hold of the drawing, or John… double damn.

Brian sighed. “Justin. I really need you to think about the consequences of your actions. You're perfectly free to draw whatever you like. But I’m afraid you're not free do show your drawings without restrictions. If you’ve got the kids in the picture, or me, I have the final say about who gets to see them, when and where.”

“Because I haven't got the brains to know when I’m implicating you,” Justin said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

“You’re reckless,” Brian said gently. “So was I, at your age. Can you try and understand where I’m coming from?”

“I know where you’re coming from, Brian,” Justin said resignedly. “I’m pissed with myself, not with you. I really shouldn’t leave those sketches lying around for anyone to see. I apologize. I fucked up.”

“Not really,” Brian said. “I don’t mind the guys looking at them. They’ve known me long enough and seen me with the kids often enough to know I wouldn’t touch them. As for the other sketches…” He grinned. “They are very flattering. But they wouldn't exactly serve to enhance my image as a serious business man.”

“I understand. That image didn’t use to be quite so important, though.”

“It wasn’t,” Brian said. “Not when I was working for other people and could just walk into some other job. Kinnetik isn’t just my livelihood, Justin. I have 32 people working for me here in Pittsburgh, and eight in New York. I need to come across as reliable, and respectable.”

Justin nodded. Suddenly Brian’s anger over the additional water commercial Ted had sent out made even more sense. “I’m sorry, Brian. I promise I won’t do that again.”

Brian shrugged. “Sorry is bullshit. Tell me why you won’t sell that drawing? You could hold a private auction right here, Shane and Ken would pay a bomb.”

“I want it for myself,” Justin said uncertainly.

“You can’t keep doing that if you want to make it as an artist. Artists create to sell. You might want to have a chat with Jonathan about that.”

“You reckon he’ll talk to me after my stand on crimson,” Justin grinned.

“That was a discussion, he won’t hold your opinion against you,” Brian stated. “Did you know that was Marjorie’s shop you walked into?”

Justin shook his head. “Never heard of her before. Does it matter?”

Brian nodded thoughtfully. “That’s typical for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Marjorie is one of the craftiest agents in Pennsylvania,” Brian grinned. “And you haven’t heard of her.”

Justin bit his lip. Tell Brian that he had never even entertained the idea of having an agent?

Brian sighed. “No matter, Justin. She took your work on commission; I take that to mean she likes you and your work. She was always particular, but she’s downright picky these days. You got a foot in the door; make sure she doesn’t have reason to slam it in your face.”

Justin had an epiphany. “If your portrait had been in some other shop, you would’ve been upset.”

“Annoyed,” Brian amended. “Yes. If you use my face to advertise, at least use the best place for it!”

Justin nodded. “Okay. I get it. If I want to show my work in future, I’ll ask you whether you’re okay with it.”

“I’d appreciate it. You need to ask all the people in your portraits, Justin. That’s what we were talking about in the library, remember? You can’t draw or paint a portrait of somebody and show that picture just anywhere. It’s bad form.”

Justin frowned. “Maybe I’ll stick to abstracts, and still lifes.”

Brian raised that eyebrow. “Really? Is it so hard to talk to people? Your abstracts are interesting, but I wouldn’t hang them. They’re disturbing.”

“Harper is disturbing, too.”

“Yes, but I don’t want him in my bed. Distance keeps the disturbance tolerable.”

“Cute. I think I’d like to talk to him again,” Justin decided. “So. If not abstracts, what?”

“Looking at your oeuvre so far, I’d say your strengths actually are in portraits and genre paintings,” Brian asserted.

“I’m no Prendergast, or Bellows,” Justin protested.

“I’m not talking Ashcan School, Justin, or American Gothic. You’re more Traversi, or Rudolf Epp, really. Simon Glücklich, even.”

“Those are kitsch,” Justin wrinkled his nose.

“The eyes of the young.” Brian shook his head. “Look at the execution and the emotion, not the subject or the colors. We see them as kitschy because that time is gone, we don’t have that innocence any longer. They were modern for their day, actually, and well sought after. Their portraits and their studies of children are pretty damn brilliant. Lively, accurate, unpretentious.”

Justin made a face. “I should’ve visited some art galleries and exhibitions in New York.”

Brian chortled. “Too right, you should have. What were you doing all year, Justin?”

“Getting from one day to the next,” Justin sighed. 

“About that. How come you had so little money? You were getting royalties, weren’t you?”

Justin shook his head. “No. Didn’t you know, Rage isn’t selling.”

“Michael told you that? Do you have it in writing?”

Reacting to the sudden urgency in Brian’s voice, Justin threw up his hands. “Not in writing, no. I trusted Michael. Are you saying it’s not true?”

“You were getting royalties up to when, exactly,” Brian demanded, not answering his question.

“The third printing. Michael said that after that, people lost interest,” Justin explained.

Brian huffed and reached for the phone, speed-dialing. “Hi Tom. Brian. Another thing you need to look into, I’m afraid. I just found out that Justin got royalties for Rage until the third printing, but nothing after that.”

He listened for a moment, then laughed through his nose. “You’re right about that. I leave it with you, then? --- Right, thanks. See you then.”

He put the receiver back down. “Rage has just gone into the seventh reprint, Justin. Selling like hotcakes. Michael also brought out a collector’s issue, with additional drawings, some of which you had initially discarded.”

“Fuck,” Justin breathed. “I hate that creep.”

Brian shrugged. “Unfortunately, he told me you had collaborated on that. I saw no need to verify, I’m afraid.”

“I bet he has no money, I still won’t get my share, will I?”

Brian pulled his lips into his mouth. “He stole money from both Ben and Hunter. I’m not sure whether he overspends, or whether he’s actually broke. We’ll find out, though. You can sue, of course. He’ll have to give you whatever monies are coming in now.”

Justin shook his head. “To think I might not have had to sell my computer…”

Brian smirked at him. “Next time, read the fucking letter.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Justin said instantly.

“Here’s hoping,” Brian muttered.

“Do you want hold on to my sketchbook,” Justin offered cautiously.

“Heck no. I’m not censoring you, Justin. Just make sure those sketches don’t leave your hands.”

“I will,” Justin promised. “Would you mind if I locked them in your safe?”

“You can leave them up here,” Brian suggested. “There’s a safe up here.”

Brian opened one of the cabinets and moved the mirror above the sink. It slid aside to reveal a safe with an opening big enough for a decently sized canvas.

Brian gave him the combination and showed him how to open the safe. Inside, there were two shelves. On the top shelf, there were three piles of what looked like an assortment of sketches and paintings. One pile was large, one medium and the third one quite small.

Justin grinned. “Those are yours. The big pile is the stuff you’re not satisfied with. The middle pile contains things that need work. And the smallest pile is what you’re actually happy with.”

Brian smiled. “You do know me, Mr. Taylor.”

“Can I look? Please?”

Brian held his eyes. “If I say no, will you creep back in here and take a look?”

“What do you think?”

“If I thought that, I wouldn’t want you around,” Brian admitted. “I know you don’t snoop. Put your stuff in.”

Justin did, and saw that the rather large pile on the bottom shelf consisted of his own work. Some of the papers were rumpled, he had obviously discarded them for some reason or other, but Brian had decided to keep them.

Glancing at Brian for permission, Justin rifled through the heap.

Embarrassed, he bit his lip, putting everything back.

Justin stared at the safe for a long time, trying to figure out what all this meant. 

A pointless exercise, he had never been very good at understanding why Brian did the things he did.

“Why keep those,” Justin finally asked, his throat dry.

Brian opened a small icebox and handed him a bottle of water.

He studied Justin for a long moment before he said, “They told me what you were thinking.”

“You could’ve asked,” Justin sighed, taking a deep drink.

Brian shook his head. “I don’t know whether that has changed, but you weren’t very good at discussing your own issues. It always seemed easier for you to get on my case.”

True, Justin realized. Too fucking true.

“You were right when you told Gus that I draw what I’m feeling,” Justin admitted. “It’s often easier to put it on paper, rather than talk about it.”

Brian nodded, pulling his lips into his mouth. “We need to learn how to talk, otherwise we’ll fall into the same old traps.”

“Yes, I know,” Justin sighed again. “I’m not easy to have around, am I.”

Brian laughed. “Am I?”

“Pretty much,” Justin said.

Brian wrapped his arms around him. “You're not that bad.”

“So what's this, a history of our undefined non-relationship relationship?”

“Past history,” Brian replied firmly. “We only met three days ago, remember?”

Justin grinned. “Right. So can I look at your stuff?”

“I’m not sure,” Brian frowned. “Let me think about it?”

“What’s to think?”

“You draw what you feel. I draw what I see. Are you ready to deal with that?”

Stunned, Justin drew a deep breath. Brian was always protecting him. 

What made him think he’d ever be this good at looking after Brian?

“Now that’s something I do need to think about,” Justin said.

Brian closed the safe and moved the mirror back into place. “We have time, Justin. Let’s go downstairs and enjoy the evening.”

Justin grinned. “Ken was a little worried when you dragged me away.”

“I wonder why he showed me that picture,” Brian said. “He never does anything without a reason.”

“You’ll find out,” Justin said confidently.

Brian smiled, and kissed him.

Justin sighed and let the feelings wash over him. Closeness. Safety. So much love.

They went downstairs hand in hand.

 

Richard frowned at Ken and Dave. “Why show him that?”

Ken exchanged a look with Dave, and sighed. “We found the sketchbook on the table in the dining area earlier. Anybody could have looked, or stolen one of those sketches.”

Shane sniggered. “Damn, why didn’t I think of that.”

“The one of Brian kneeling? Justin wasn’t in a position to see him like that,” Dave said.

“But he got it just right. That's exactly what Brian looked like from our position,” Ken added.

“He’s good,” Carrie said. “We’ve seen some of his work.”

“Justin is too good,” Ken said. “Those sketches are full of feeling. You know instantly that those aren’t drawn from imagination.”

“True,” Carrie said. “I think that’s why he’s so good. His art is full of emotion.”

“That’s what art is all about,” Jim said.

“Point is,” Ken explained, “Brian can’t afford for this kind of thing to be seen just anywhere. The one with Leda, Judson, and Brian in bed with the kids? Can you imagine the repercussions?”

“Correct,” Richard conceded. “Why didn’t you just tell Brian?”

“Shane already had,” Ken sighed. “Brian shrugged it off. I would have shrugged it off, but then one of our friends called and said Justin has a sketch of Brian in a shop window on Penn. He had gone in and taken a look at the artist’s other stuff. Bought some, too. He said it was okay, but if you knew Britin, you’d recognize the setting of some of the drawings. You’re always safe with Marjorie, of course. But still.”

“You could have spoken to Justin about it,” Carrie suggested.

Ken shook his head. “No. I’m not interfering in their relationship. Brian hadn’t seen the sketches, so I made sure he got to see them. What he does with the information and how he deals with Justin is his business.”

“Good thinking,” Richard said approvingly.

Ken smiled. “About time Brian told Justin what he needs from his partner.”

“Does he let him get away with murder because he’s so young,” Shane wondered.

Jim shook his head. “No. Brian wants Justin to be free to do his own thing. Age has nothing to do with it.”

“It’s time Brian realized it doesn't work like that. He has every right to expect some consideration from Justin,” Jennifer said sharply.

Ben sighed. “What happened to ‘let’s all stay out of it’? Leave them to it.”

“Brian has changed. He’s changed a lot in the last year,” Jennifer protested. “Justin doesn't know a thing.”

“Brian will tell him what he needs to know,” Ben said. “It's none of our business, folks.”

“You’re right,” Richard nodded.

“Where are they, anyway,” Tucker asked.

“They’re in the living room. Daddy is dancing with Justin,” Gus said. “I think they want to be alone for a bit.”

Leda smiled at the boy. “I think you're right. Let’s give them some space.”

“Does anybody have a camera handy,” Molly asked quietly. She was standing outside the open kitchen window, looking in.

Leda stood next to her and peered over her shoulder. She smiled. “Richard, where’s your video camera?”

“Right here,” Richard said. “I didn't get a chance to take it back upstairs yet.”

Leda gestured. “I think they’d appreciate the memory.”

Richard picked up the camera and stepped closer. Smiling widely, he started filming.


	56. Fifty-Six

“Who’s the singer,” Justin asked when they came into the living room. The room seemed filled with silvery strands of music, lilting and sweet.

Brian put his arms around him, beginning to move in time to the melody. 

“Sol Hoopii and the Novelty Trio,” he said quietly. “He was in ‘Waikiki Wedding’ with Bing Crosby.”

“Is that how you noticed him?”

Shrugging, Brian said, “He combined elements from Jazz and Blues with his Hawaiian Steel Guitar.”

Justin smiled and snuggled closer, his arms around Brian's waist. “And of course, you had to have decent Hawaiian music with your Hawaiian feast.”

“That’s about the only Hawaiian sounds I can put up with for an extended period of time,” Brian admitted.

“It's your house. Why not play what you like and be done with it?”

Brian pulled back a little to study his face.

Justin grinned. “I know. Everything has to fit together. You'd no more play jazz today than you’d wear brown shoes with a blue suit.”

“That's a colorful and very ugly image,” Brian grimaced. “I never did like Valentino.”

The next song started, and Brian changed his hold.

It took Justin a moment to recognize the fox-trot, but then he managed to fall into step with Brian.

“You're out of practice,” Brian murmured.

Justin tilted his head back and looked into his eyes. “Yes.”

“We’ll start over.”

Justin took a deep breath. He relaxed, and let Brian take control.

Suddenly, dancing was dead easy. 

Everything else would be, as well.

 

Jennifer took a peek into the living room, careful not to push against Richard.

Lovely, really. The music was unusual and a little surreal, and so was the dancing couple.

Brian held Justin close, easily guiding him.

Justin was leaning into Brian, his head on Brian’s shoulder, eyes shut, smiling to himself. He seemed perfectly happy to follow where Brian led.

The living room was dim, the darkening blue sky outside the only illumination.

Brian was tall and dark and mysterious, and her Justin looked like a fallen angel.

Jennifer sighed. Like any mother, she had always considered her own kids beautiful. Justin in Brian’s arms was a vision.

Something told her that Brian saw more in Justin than just a pretty boy. It showed in his face, every time he looked at Justin. His eyes softened, and there was that little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth… and he let Justin touch him all the time. 

Brian had always seemed so reserved… she hadn’t seen them touch very often before, and they had rarely kissed or even hugged in her presence.

Brian had allowed Judson to kiss and embrace him, but as far as she remembered, he had never been the one to instigate the interaction.

She considered Brian a proud man, but that pride seemed to be non-existent where Justin was concerned. Justin was obviously different. How could that be good for Brian?

 

Molly stood next to her mother, watching attentively. This was it. This was what she wanted for herself. To have somebody you could move with, without stepping on each other’s toes. To know instinctively where each of you stood. She grimaced, remembering her dance class. That boy had been nice but so… clumsy. No. Inelegant. She sighed a little. Another Brian might be hard to find.

Then again… she shot a quick glance sideways, to where Jim was standing with Matt and Vic. If only!

At least Justin was happy again. He hadn’t been, not when he first got back into the Burgh. She’d said she needed to be elsewhere whenever he came by because it had been so difficult to see that lifeless expression in his eyes. She didn’t like it when Justin was gloomy. Hadn’t her mother spotted that look? Hadn’t she seen that Brian had been content before Justin came back, but not happy? Was Jennifer that blind? Why was she on Justin’s case all the time, anyway? What did she want, an affair with Brian?

Brian wouldn’t go for it, Molly knew. So what was her stupid mother thinking? What about Tucker? They seemed quite blissful to her, but she sensed that Tucker was getting impatient with her mother’s attitude. 

Watching Brian and Justin together, Molly reflected it had to be quite wonderful to be with somebody you could trust, somebody who’d know all your secrets and wouldn’t tell a soul. Yes, they had trouble getting it right, but they both wanted this so desperately. Their struggles had to be worth it, surely? Judging by their faces… yes. It was all worth it.

Molly was even more determined now to capture that kind of love for herself.

 

Carrie watched from the door, her eyes on Brian’s face.

Yes. The light was back.

The last months had been heart-breaking for Brian. 

The bomb, Erin’s death – and then Justin left.

And not a word from the boy. 

No grouching about the cost of the wedding he had had to call off, and the vacation he had had to cancel. No moaning about rings he had bought that he couldn’t do anything with. No complaints about Justin forgetting half his stuff at the loft. Not a word about emails that failed to come.

She had been so worried.

Brian was vocal about things he didn’t like, but was okay with. 

Silent Brian meant trouble, because the pain went too deep for words.

Brian had organized Erin’s funeral, and it was lavish and exquisite, with a vast amount of flowers. The priest had actually found warm and benign words about Erin, as though he had known her personally.

She knew Brian had written the priest’s speech. Brian had designed simple cards to let their friends know, and those cards were stark and stunning.

Brian had been their island in an ocean of despair, holding Vic, finding words of comfort and fond memories for her and Richard. He had sat with Shane for endless nights, drinking whiskey and letting Shane ramble on about his big sister. It had actually been a relief when Shane went to New York.

Who had held Brian, who had comforted him?

Judson had come along at just the right time, when Brian was ready to adjust and move on. They were lovely together.

Yet, it had been clear to her and Richard that Brian still longed for Justin. He never mentioned him.

Now Justin was back, and it seemed to her that Brian’s spirit had lifted.

They looked so charming together, swaying in perfect harmony with the melody and each other.

 

Shane sighed.

Never, never had he seen Brian like this with anybody else. With his guard down, and completely at ease with that. So far, only he himself had been allowed to see that side of Brian.

So, what? Home was a kid in his mid-twenties? This compact little guy with the sharp tongue and twinkling eyes?

He had never known that Brian needed another person to feel whole.

Did he need somebody like that in his own life? Get away from Bill, and get over him. He had the hots for Judson, and had been toying with the idea of a relationship that lasted longer than a night.

Did he want this sort of thing? Eternal love? Everlasting anguish?

Scary. Very scary. 

Brian had guts.

Shane sighed again.

The difference between walking and flying, his father had called it. To him, it looked like the difference between the wind and a tornado.

Brian radiated happiness.

Justin seemed happy, but also tense, and maybe a little too eager to please.

It’s the pressure, Shane thought. Strange, nobody seems on Brian’s case about it, but everybody has something to say about Justin. And to Justin.

Shane grimaced.

He had done his fair share of second-guessing and questioning, putting Justin on the defensive.

How was the man supposed to focus on Brian? And that was where his focus needed to be, after all.

Erin is dead, he reminded himself.

He had held his dying sister in his arms, had heard her last words. “Look after Brian for me. Tell him I love him.”

She had died with Brian’s name on her lips, entrusting him with Brian’s care.

I’ll do a better job from now on, Erin, he promised silently. I’ll tell him I’ll come back home permanently. Wasn’t entirely happy in the Big Apple anyway.

Watched Brian and Justin move together for a tender and lasting kiss, and smiled.

 

Richard kept the film running, his eyes on Brian.

Finally, finally. His boy was dancing again, not just moving with the music to blow off steam.

He had watched Brian dance with growing concern over the last months. These days, when Brian danced, it looked like the beats of the music were pounding into him, striking a chord.

Brian wasn’t even aware of what he gave away when he danced.

After Justin had left, Brian had preferred to dance alone, very rarely touching his partner.

Eyes closed, arms up in the air in a rebellious gesture, feet driving into the ground, Brian had danced a war dance. Defying loss, love, and life.

He moved in time to the rhythm, never missing a beat. 

The harsher the tempo, the better. Competing with the music, dancing up a storm, he poured his pain into the movement, to the point of exhaustion.

For an hour or two, it allowed him to find a measure of peace. And then Brian was on the move again, trying to escape.

Somehow, Justin dissolved the discord, creating harmony in Brian’s tortured soul.

Brian and Justin moved as one, and Brian’s storm had given way to a gentle summer shower, his movements graceful and fluid.

Brian had come home, and was whole again.

 

Brian and Justin rejoined them outside after a while, each thirstily downing a glass of water.

“Try the punch,” Vic suggested, smiling slyly.

Brian raised an eyebrow and drew Vic to him, murmuring something that was too low for Richard to catch.

Vic nodded and laughed, and Brian smirked.

Vic draped his arms around Brian’s neck and began to dance. Brian was right there with him, a beautiful sight.

Richard smiled indulgently. These two had years of practice dancing together, and it showed. There was no indication that either of them had to think about steps, or rhythm. The music was in their nature.

Justin grinned, and started to dance with Molly. Leda held out her hand to Shane. They made a pretty couple as well. Judson and Ben were already moving together, and Matt led Daphne in a very gentle sway.

Vic was talking to Brian in an undertone, and Richard wondered what the subject was. Brian kept smiling, and occasionally brushed his lips against Vic’s face.

“Let’s not just stand here like old folks,” Carrie smiled. “Come and dance with me.”

Richard was about to, when Lindsay pushed her way through the dancers, bumping hard into Brian and Vic.

They broke apart, both looking at the intruder with raised right eyebrow. They looked so much alike that Richard felt his smile widen.

“Watch where you’re going, sweetheart. Don’t walk all over the kids,” Vic said kindly, pointing to where Gus and JR were hopping in time to the music.

“I just thought you ought to stop,” Lindsay said. “Maybe the loft was better for you, Brian. No doors in the bedroom at all.”

“Whoa,” Shane said. “Where did that come from?”

Lindsay shrugged negligently. “What, are you blind? Just back together with Justin, and he’s already after his next meal.”

Her loud voice carried over the music, and now the dancers all stopped and looked at her.

Vic tilted his head, studying Brian’s face. Brian had his eyes on Lindsay, his expression carefully neutral.

“Just what do you think Vic is,” Brian asked, his voice even.

“Look at him. Another twinkie, at the age you like best. I’m surprised Justin isn’t at your throat yet. Then again, he’s used to you cheating, isn’t he.”

“Actually, it's only cheating if you don’t know what's going on,” Justin said firmly. “And Brian has my express permission to do whatever he likes with Vic.”

Lindsay sighed. “You're a fool, Justin. It's not going to work.”

Justin sighed, too. “Lindsay. You’ve had too much to drink. Take another look at Vic, and think structure, not color.”

Lindsay frowned at him, then looked at Vic for a long moment. Vic met her eyes squarely.

“So he looks like Brian. I guess that’s a dream come true for you. A chance to fuck yourself.”

Justin stood next to Brian and slipped his arm around his waist. “Well, Lindsay. There goes a beautiful friendship. Down the drain of an uncouth mind. Vic is Brian’s son.”

Vic grinned at Brian. “I thought you hadn’t told him.”

Brian shrugged, his arm across Justin’s shoulders. “Justin thinks for himself.”

“That's what you meant,” Lindsay said, sounding stunned. “When we were building that damn swing for Gus’ first birthday. You said you had two sons, and I thought you meant Justin. But you didn’t. You meant him,” she nodded at Vic.

“I don't think of Justin as my son,” Brian said patiently. 

Too patiently. Richard felt that Brian was mere moments away from fury.

Vic winked at Justin. “So you don’t mind me flirting with my dad?”

“No,” Justin grinned. “Flirt away. But your boyfriend goes near him, I’ll break his arm.”

“That didn’t take you long,” Gus smiled at Justin approvingly. “You’re much brighter than my mum.”

“That’s because Justin doesn’t drink,” Brian said. “I suggest you get some rest, Lindsay. Both your mind and your liver probably need it.”

“And take a shower, damn you,” Melanie said.

Lindsay shrugged. “Fuck you, too. If you don’t like the smell, find another bed.”

“You can sleep in my bed, Mom Mel,” Gus offered immediately. “I don’t need much space.”

Melanie smiled at him, tears in her eyes. “You know what? I think I’ll take you up on that.”

“What if I wanted to sleep in your bed,” Lindsay asked.

Gus shook his head. “You stink. And I don’t like you much.”

“Likewise,” Lindsay shot back. “I’d rather sleep on the floor.”

“At this rate, you will,” Brian muttered darkly.

Lindsay smirked at him. “Don’t like me telling the truth, do you?”

“Stings like a bee, that one,” Ben said, shaking his head.

“She’s a WASP,” Brian said resignedly. “She’s got more than just one sting in her. Come on, Linds. I’ll tuck you in.”

Lindsay pushed him away, laughing. “I don’t do it with gay guys anymore.”

“No,” Gus said. “Only straight guys are stupid enough to go near you.”

Lindsay looked down at the boy. “You keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you.”

Gus raised his chin, looking very much like Brian. “Gonna hit me again?”

Brian narrowed his eyes at Lindsay. “You hit Gus?”

“He’s a lot like you,” Lindsay said maliciously. “Hitting him into next week is the only way to shut him up.”

“Brian. She doesn’t hit the kids,” Melanie said. “You know damn well I wouldn't allow it.”

Gus smiled at her, a sad little smile. “But you’re not always home.”

Brian went down on one knee, looking Gus in the eye. “Why didn’t you tell me, son?”

“She’s always sorry the next day, and says it won't happen again. I’ve been trying to believe her.” The boy shrugged.

Richard felt a cold shiver travel down his spine, wondering whether Brian had heard the same words from his abusive father, or his mother.

Brian pulled Gus into a hug. “Now I promise. It won’t happen again.”

Gus wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. “I do believe you,” he smiled.

“How sweet,” Lindsay said. “What are you going to do, move to Toronto?”

Brian rose swiftly, Gus in his arms. “I’ll talk to you when you’re sober.”

Leda grinned at Molly. “Ready, kiddo?”

Molly nodded, smiling. “Ready when you are!”

They grabbed Lindsay by the arms and pulled her into the house. Lindsay seemed too surprised to struggle. Richard wondered how Leda and Molly had become Brian’s bouncers.

Brian took a deep breath, looking at Melanie with a mixture of anger and hurt. His expression softened after a moment. Mel had tears in her eyes. 

“I’m really sorry, Gus. Brian. I didn’t know. But I should have.” Mel’s voice wasn’t steady.

Gus shook his head. “I thought about telling you. Or dad. But you couldn’t have done anything about it. I didn't want you to worry.”

He looked at Brian. “I made sure she didn’t have reason to hit JR! Are you angry I didn’t tell you?”

Brian sighed. “No. I’m not angry. Not with you. I just wish I had known sooner.”

Gus kissed his cheek. “That’s alright. My decision. No regrets.”

Brian tilted his head, smiling. “Very well.”

Molly and Leda returned, and Leda gave Melanie a key. “We locked her in.”

Brian frowned.

“With a bucket, a roll of toilet paper, and three bottles of water,” Molly grinned, apparently interpreting the frown correctly.

“O tempora, o mores ,” Brian sighed, setting Gus on his feet.

Gus grinned wickedly. “Can we please do that all the time, Daddy?”

“I’m afraid not,” Richard laughed. “The Geneva Convention says you cannot.”

“Conventions are stupid,” Gus frowned. “It’s another law, right?”

“That’s right, Gus.” Richard nodded.

Gus shrugged. “Shame, really.”

Brian shook his head. “She’s still your mother, sonny-boy. You don’t have to like her, but you have to treat her with the same respect you afford other people.”

“I know,” Gus sighed. “But it’s a lot easier to respect you.”

“Thanks. I think,” Brian grinned.

Vic hugged him. “You are a great dad.”

“I got great kids,” Brian smiled and hugged back.

“Is that what you call a mutual appreciation society,” Gus asked.

Vic gave a startled laugh. “I guess you could call it that, little brother. Where did you hear that term?”

“Daddy said it at the stylist yesterday,” Gus said.

“You could’ve asked what it means,” Brian said.

“I wanted to see whether I can figure it out myself, first,” Gus explained. “And I could!” He beamed.

“I think that calls for a round of drinks,” Brian grinned.

“Lemonade,” JR piped up.

“Lemonade for you, little lady,” Brian smiled. “You’ve been very quiet all this time. Are you alright?”

JR’s eyes filled with tears, and Brian immediately picked her up.

“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart,” he prompted gently.

“I want you to be my daddy,” JR said, tears suddenly streaming down her small face. “I don’t want mum to hit Gus!”

“Can you explain what you mean,” Brian asked cautiously. “Just so I’m sure I understand you.”

“I don’t like my dad,” JR said, crying harder and beginning to hiccup. “Gus doesn't have to like his mum. I don't like my dad! I don’t wanna like him!”

“Nobody can force you to like somebody,” Brian said softly. “And you’re my little girl as much as Gus is my little boy.”

JR rubbed her eyes and looked at Brian with a frown. “Do I have to like mum Linds?”

Brian shook his head. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“Why can’t you live with us, and mum gets to live here,” JR asked.

“I couldn't live with you, because your mamma prefers to live with a woman. And I prefer to live with a man.”

“Then I don’t want to live with mamma,” JR said. “Can I live with you and Justin? I like Justin. I’ll be good! I don’t throw balls in the living room!”

Gus frowned up at her. “Tattle-tale!”

Mel stood close to Brian and smoothed JR’s hair out of the way. “Do you want me to be without my little girl?”

JR shook her head. “But I miss dada, always!”

Mel exchanged a glance with Brian. “It would seem the grown-ups need to talk about this. Now we know what you want, we’ll see what we can do, okay? Why don’t we go in the kitchen and I wash your face? You’re all flushed, honey.”

“Dada wash my face,” JR said decisively.

Brian nodded, smiling. “I can do that. And mamma pours drinks for you guys while we’re gone, okay?”

JR smiled at him, wrapping her arms about his neck. She showered Brian with kisses, repeating, “Love you, love you!” over and over. 

Brian laughed and carried her inside.

Mel poured drinks for the children, and a large glass of punch for Brian. “Phew,” she said. “Poor Brian. So much for a nice and easy week off.”

Justin sighed, holding out his glass for a refill. “Why does Lindsay have a problem with Brian, all of a sudden?”

“Is it sudden,” Richard asked cautiously.

Melanie shook her head. “No. She doesn't talk about the problem. She never liked to talk. She keeps everything to herself, and then one day she explodes in your face and you get to wonder what hit you. I have no idea why she’s so hostile. I can only say she’s been like that for weeks.”

Brian returned with JR, who looked fresh, and happy about something. 

Brian winked at Melanie, took his glass, and went to sit in one of the deck-chairs. Something in his demeanor made it clear he didn’t want company, and everybody respected that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O tempora, o mores - Such times, such mores (Latin)


	57. Fifty-Seven

Richard kept his eyes on Brian, waiting for the subtle shift in his posture that would tell him Brian had followed his train of thought to the end.

That shift came soon enough, and Richard smiled to himself when he saw that Justin was even quicker to pick up on the change than he was.

Justin sauntered over to Brian, handing him another glass of punch. Brian smiled at him and said something.

Walking nearer, Richard only caught Justin's reply, “I know. It's half punch, half soda.”

Brian snorted, but sipped his drink. Justin bent and kissed him, whispering a few words. Brian’s smile widened. Justin held his eyes for a long moment, his smile tender. Then he winked and walked back to Jim, whom he had been talking to since Lindsay had been dragged inside.

Richard sat in the deck-chair next to Brian’s. “Heavy thoughts, sonny-boy,” he asked, quoting Brian’s comment to Gus earlier.

Brian sighed. “Pretty heavy, athair. My boy is growing up at warp-speed. I’m not sure I like it. I’m wondering what I’m doing wrong.”

“You want my honest opinion, mac?”

“Yes,” Brian smirked. “If I wanted a dishonest opinion, I could always fib myself.”

“Do you even know how to do that,” Richard wondered aloud.

Brian replied evenly, “I’m as good at that as the next man.”

“I wish,” Richard muttered. “I’m quite convinced you’re not. Where Gus is concerned, I think he's growing up so quickly because of his mothers. You were very grown-up for your age when we first met you. Incapable parents force the kids to mature faster.”

“Gus won’t be seeing Lindsay for much longer. I like the way Mel handles the kids.”

“Gus is more of a kid with you than he is with anybody else. You feed the horses with him, check on the cats a hundred times a day, play tag, and mess around in the pool. He told me you and Justin spent hours in a playground with them yesterday.”

Brian nodded slowly. “I’m wondering whether I’m talking to him on a level that’s too adult.”

“You always talked like that to Vic,” Richard said warmly. “Look at him; he grew up into a beautiful and bright young man. Every chance he gets, he raves about the wonderful childhood you and Erin gave him.”

“I didn’t know that,” Brian's smile was almost shy.

“You're a good father, son. Don’t doubt yourself. You’re doing just fine.”

Brian drew a deep breath. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

Richard smiled. “We’ve been missing you, Brian. We did tell you repeatedly nobody blames you for Erin’s death, but you still don’t come by as often as you used to.”

Brian met his eyes. “It's difficult, athair. Coming to your house, I always expect Erin to open the door.”

“I know. So do I. We've been thinking about selling the house, but we can’t let go of the memories.”

Nodding, Brian sighed. “I’ve had the loft on the market a dozen times, but I couldn’t bring myself to sell it.”

“Everywhere you went, somebody was missing?”

“Something like that, yes.”

It was Richard’s turn to sigh. “I’m sorry, Brian. You’ve lost so much in recent years.”

“Sorry is bullshit,” Brian smirked.

Richard raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s wrong with the punch?”

“Too much punch in the punch,” Brian grinned. “It’s spiked.”

“What with?”

“Ecstasy.”

“Great. Two lawyers, three doctors and an assortment of other professionals around, and you spike the punch?”

“Me,” Brian protested. “As if. Blame your beautiful and bright grandson.”

Somehow, deep down, Richard was sorry that Brian didn’t go around spiking drinks anymore. Brian hadn’t just lost people, he had also lost some of his zest for life. Quite a chunk of the carefree man he had once been was gone.

Sighing, Richard followed Brian's gaze. He should have guessed. It rested on Justin, with an expression Richard found difficult to interpret. Gratitude?

Richard cleared his throat. “So, buachaill. Justin.”

“Et tu, Brute?” Brian made a face.

Richard shook his head. “I can see the why. I want to know what.”

“What, what?”

“What draws you to a kid the same age as your son?”

Brian frowned. “Justin is two years older than Vic.”

“That makes a big difference,” Richard agreed, straight-faced.

Brian sat back in his chair, still frowning. “Does to me. You want the romantic or the pornographic what?”

“You mean, glossy or truthful? I’ll take the truth, any day.”

Richard saw the dark look Brian shot him, and wondered whether it was surprise or anger.

Just then, Jennifer approached Justin, who listened to her for a moment, then shrugged and followed her into the house, not before rolling his eyes at Brian.

Brian raised an eyebrow in response, and Justin grinned.

Brian cleared his throat. “Before Justin came along I felt like that old Eric Carmen song. You remember? Something about never needing anyone, and making love is just for fun?”

Richard nodded. The song had always made him sad.

“The first night, I realized Justin is different. I knew he was a virgin straight away, there’s an air you come to understand… Anyway. Of course he became starry-eyed. They all do. Still… he shot his mouth off at me every chance he got. For instance, he thought Mel would provide a more male influence for Gus than I could.”

Brian smiled at the memory; and Richard shook his head. “Normally, you’d not take that kind of cheek. From anyone.”

Brian shrugged. “No. I wouldn’t have. But Justin… I took him to school in the morning, some kids had written faggot on the Jeep when it was parked in front of Mikey’s, in bright pink letters. Looked funky on the black.”

Brian smirked and continued, “I was waiting for him to want to get out. I thought he’d want to walk up the road to the school, but no. I dropped him off right at the front entrance. I expected him to run off immediately, but instead, he stood there talking to me. He didn’t care who saw him.”

Richard raised an eyebrow. “Courage always intrigues you.”

“It does,” Brian sighed. “And then he kept turning up. He was driving me crazy. I didn’t want to fall in love with a 17 year old schoolboy. Looking back…”

Brian took another sip of his drink. “I fell in love with him the moment I saw him. I just didn’t want to know that that was it. Unlike the old gang, he had no pre-conceived notions of how I should behave, or what I needed to do to stay in character.”

Compressing his lips, Richard managed to stay silent.

“You sure you want to know the what,” Brian asked softly.

Richard simply nodded.

Brian shrugged. “Until Justin, when I fucked, I was never involved. Sex was just another skill I had to acquire. I got very good at it, got good at reading reactions. Got good at controlling mine. My body reacted, and my mind was elsewhere, thinking about the next campaign or even the next trick. It just got me physically tired enough to sleep. I remember I’d taken somebody home after the art show at the GLC. I’d bought Justin’s drawing of me, and while this guy was giving me a blowjob, I was looking at the sketch, wondering what Justin saw when he looked at me. I don’t remember who the guy was, or what he looked like. But I remember that I was thinking about Justin the whole time.”

Richard realized he had his fingers clenched on the arms of the deck-chair, and had to make a conscious effort to relax.

“With Justin, all of me comes together. All of me is right there. Not just my body. Everything. I can’t think, and I can’t feel anything but Justin. He makes me come alive.”

“And Judson couldn't do that,” Richard asked softly, remembering how Gus had come alive when jumping into the pool with Brian. The kid was going to have it much easier than Brian ever had. Brian didn’t even know how much he was giving his children, how much he was teaching them.

“Not like that, no.” Brian shook his head. “Only Justin can.”

Richard nodded, taking a moment to process what Brian had said. Small wonder it looked as though Brian was obsessed with Justin.

 

“Daddy,” Gus yelled from the patio door. “It’s Justin! Come quick!”

Brian was out of his chair, had vaulted the chairs that stood in his way and had reached the door before Richard even got up.

Hurrying after him, Richard was still in time to witness Brian push Jennifer roughly out of his way, move Daphne gently to one side, and face the knife Justin was wielding.

Slowly, not wanting to startle the young man, Richard walked into the dining area.

Justin stood between the breakfast bar and the sink, the neon lights overhead blazing brightly, reflecting on the blade and his pale face.

“Don’t come any closer,” Justin said, his breathing rapid and shallow.

“Really, Justin,” Brian said, somehow managing to sound slightly bored. “Do put that down.”

Justin shook his head, bringing the knife to his arm.

Faster than lightning, Brian intercepted the move, pushing his own arm between Justin’s and the descending knife.

Stunned, Richard watched as their eyes held in an obvious clash of wills. Brian didn't flinch as the blade broke his skin, cutting into the soft flesh beneath. Brian’s eyes were wide, fixed on Justin, not even blinking.

Moments later, Justin’s breath caught, and he looked away from Brian's hypnotic stare. Clearly not comprehending, he stared at the knife that was still digging into Brian’s arm.

Jennifer made a move as if to approach them, but Brian silently raised his free arm, and Daphne grabbed her wrist, sternly shaking her head.

Justin was still staring at the knife, and at Brian’s arm, where bright red blood collected in big drops, sluggishly running down the blade and beginning to drip on the floor.

“Fuck,” Justin exclaimed. “What did you do that for? I didn't mean for you to get hurt!”

“Then do something about it,” Brian suggested calmly.

Justin dragged in a deep breath, dropped the knife into the sink, and produced a bottle of benzalkonium chloride solution and the first-aid kit. 

Richard wondered how Justin knew where Brian kept these.

Shaking his head, Justin cleaned the cut and bandaged it. “You’ll need stitches.”

Brian shot a quick glance at Jim, who had looked over the counter. Jim shook his head reassuringly.

“You know I heal quickly,” Brian said calmly. “Don't worry about it.”

Justin said nothing, he bit his lip and finished what he was doing, then put everything away, wiping up the blood on the floor last.

Turning back to Brian after washing his hands, Justin frowned.

Richard suddenly understood it wasn’t the first time something like that had happened.

Justin moved toward Brian, and Brian embraced him, holding tight.

“I can’t believe…” Jennifer began, but Brian interrupted sharply.

“Shut the fuck up. Not a word from anybody. Get out, all of you.”

Of course, nobody moved. People never left the scene of an accident.

Richard told himself that he had good cause to stay.

Brian pressed his lips to Justin’s temple. “You okay?”

“No,” Justin said in a shaky whisper. “I don’t feel so good.”

“Come lie down for a bit,” Brian encouraged softly, slowly moving backward, drawing Justin with him.

Justin seemed to go willingly, and dropped limply on the sofa. Brian knelt on the floor, close to Justin’s shoulders.

Daphne finally released Jennifer, wet some paper-towels, and quickly dumped the ice from two wine coolers into the sink.

She was about to take everything over to Brian, when Justin started to retch.

Brian grabbed one of the coolers just in time, but some of the vomit still went on his hands and his trousers. Perfunctorily, Brian used some paper-towels on his jeans, then on more carefully on his hands. Gently and very carefully, he then wiped Justin’s face. 

Molly brought a glass of water, and Justin rinsed his mouth. His movements looked hesitant, heavy. Somehow, he managed to hold on to Brian the entire time.

Brian settled Justin back against a cushion, exchanging a glance with Daphne, who was biting her lips.

Justin seemed to be fighting for breath, and Jim said softly, “I’ll get my kit.”

Ken hastily shook his head. “No. Don’t. Brian mentioned earlier that Justin is allergic even to Tylenol.”

“Fuck,” Jim said, gritting his teeth, and turning his attention back to the sofa.

Richard sighed, and did the same.

Justin was arching his back, his face a mask of agony. Teeth bared, eyebrows drawn together, eyes squeezed shut, he fought for each breath.

Brian was talking to him, soothingly encouraging him to breathe slowly, evenly. For a few moments, it seemed as though he was getting through to Justin. 

But then it became clear even to Richard that Justin was hyperventilating, the sound of his tortured inhalation overly loud in the silent room.

“Justin?” Brian leaned over him, waiting. 

Richard frowned. What was Brian doing?

After an endless moment, Justin managed to meet Brian's eyes. Still fighting for air, he nodded desperately.

Brian closed his lips over Justin’s, and Richard watched in amazement as Justin clawed at Brian, tearing at his shirt, roughly digging into his back and his arms, leaving imprints of his fingers on Brian’s bare skin.

Justin struggled, and looking across at Jennifer for a moment, Richard realized that she wasn’t sure whether Brian was indeed helping her son.

Seconds ticked by, and Richard had time to glance at Gus, who was watching his father with rapt fascination.

After what seemed like an eternity, Justin's labored gasps evened out, and his breath became deep and regular.

Brian cautiously let go, taking several deep breaths, his eyes on Justin’s face.

Justin's lids fluttered, and he murmured something. It sounded drowsy. Brian nodded, and Justin closed his eyes, sighing.

Brian waited for a while, then said, “Somebody tell me what the fuck happened.”

Richard looked to Jennifer, who avoided his gaze. Tucker stood next to her, clearly angry.

“Please,” Daphne said. “Jennifer. Brian needs to know. To help Justin.”

Gus took a deep breath and wandered over to Brian. He looked into Brian's face for a moment, then nodded, squaring his shoulders.

Brian bit his lip, glanced up, and met his eyes questioningly. Richard nodded. Yes, he could see why Brian thought the boy was growing up too quickly.

“I can tell you. I know I’m not supposed to repeat conversations. I do listen to you, Daddy. But I think the need is greater than the want-not,” Gus said.

Richard could see Brian’s eyes were damp. “You make me very proud, Gus,” he said warmly.

Gus smiled. “I’m proud you’re my daddy. Mutual appreciation?”

Brian smiled widely, and nodded. “Right.”

Gus grew serious. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, you know. I was looking at my sketches, at the horses we did earlier, but Jennifer and Justin were getting louder and louder, that’s how I heard them.”

Brian nodded encouragingly.

Gus went on, “At first, Jennifer told Justin that he's too young for you, and that he’ll never have your smarts, and he can’t hope to be your equal.”

Brian’s eyes narrowed.

Gus grinned at him. “I thought you’d be angry if you found out. Justin said he hoped that his mommy had warned Tucker, because he’s in the same position.”

Eyebrow on the rise, Brian said softly, “Go on.”

Gus nodded. “Then Jennifer said that at least Tucker hadn’t stalked her until she gave in, and Justin said he couldn't imagine anybody stalking her.”

Brian bit his lip, and shook his head.

Gus made a face. “And then Jennifer said she wished she’d never had him, and that’s when Justin grabbed the knife and said he could do something about that.”

“Thank you, Gus,” Brian said. He looked over his shoulder at Jennifer. “Jen, I like you as a person. But as a mother, you suck. Seriously.”

Jennifer opened her mouth as if to say something, but then shook her head, heavily sitting in a chair.

“Do you ever wish you’d never had me,” Gus asked.

Brian shook his head adamantly. “Never. Every second of every day, I’m glad I’ve got you and Victor.”

Smiling at JR, who was safely perched on Mel’s arm, a thumb in her mouth, he added, “And our Jenny Rebecca, of course.”

JR beamed at him, and Melanie bit her bottom lip and nodded at Brian, her eyes gentle.

“You really love Justin, don’t you, Daddy,” Gus said quietly.

Brian tilted his head, holding his boy’s eyes. “Yes,” he said simply.

Richard met Carrie’s glance, and knew she was determined to tell Justin about this as soon as she got the chance.

“I can tell,” Gus nodded sagely. “I’d not kiss somebody who’d just thrown up all over me.”

Brian nodded back, his lips in his mouth. “I wouldn’t do that for just anyone. I wasn't kissing Justin, I was breathing for him. You’ve seen your mum when she has an anxiety attack, right? She holds a paper bag in front of her nose and mouth?”

Gus nodded again. “Didn’t you have a paper bag?”

“Justin can’t stand to have something over his mouth or nose, he panics even more. The only way I can help him is by breathing for him.”

“How did he cope all alone in New York,” Gus wanted to know. 

Richard felt certain he wasn’t the only one.

Brian shrugged. “I wonder.”

“How does it help knowing what they said,” Gus asked.

Brian looked at Justin. “He’ll wake up in a moment, and he’ll be furious. He’s furious with whatever caused the anxiety attack, and if I know what that was, I can prevent Justin from hurting himself.”

“Or hurting somebody else,” Gus nodded.

“That, too,” Brian said.

Gus grinned. “But you’re not too fussed about Justin hurting somebody else. As long as he’s okay.”

Brian pursed his lips, and then returned the grin.

“Why are you holding his hand like that,” Gus pointed.

Richard frowned. Brian held Justin's right in a curious grip, making it impossible for Justin to bend his fingers.

“Sometimes, too much oxygen in your blood can make you flex your fingers like that,” Brian demonstrated with his free hand. “It’s called obstetrician's hand. If that happens to Justin, he’ll get cramps and then he can’t work for days.”

“So much fuss,” Jennifer said. “He can paint with his left hand, just as well. He is ambidextrous, you know.”

“I know,” Brian said. “I also know you don’t understand. It’s not just a matter of switching hands.”

Surprising Richard, Ben nodded. “When I want the words to flow with emotion, I write by hand. I imagine Justin is used to painting emotion with his right hand.”

Brian nodded. “Yes. Justin can do everything else with his left, but his art is connected to his right hand. He can’t change that.”

Drawing a deep breath, Justin sat up. 

Richard had expected him to be tired, or worn out, but his eyes were ablaze with anger.

Brian moved back a little, and Richard realized it was just to give Justin room.

“So, Mom. Still having to consider the needs of the whole family, not just mine? Aren’t you happy I’m back with Brian? Imagine, if I’d asked to move back in with you?”

Justin spoke quickly, the words tumbling over each other. He jumped to his feet, and Brian moved just a lithely. He stood to one side, but Richard knew he’d not let Justin get to his mother.

“Justin…” Jennifer sounded helpless.

“As soon as you saw your chance, you got rid of me. You’re a hypocrite, do you know that?”

“I’m not,” Jennifer said weakly. “And when did I get rid of you?”

Justin balled his fists. “First Craig drives into Brian’s car, giving him concussion. Then he turns up on Liberty, and beats up on him. Your ex was a raving lunatic. And you keep him in the house, with Molly, and dump me on Brian. Your face when I told that shrink I like dick! Coming back from New York that time, Brian took me to live with Debbie, who told me you were all for it. You didn’t even fucking have the guts to tell me yourself! After the bashing, you thought I was your cute little boy again. When you realized that your boy was a grown man, who wanted nothing more than to get back in Brian’s pants, you just as quickly handed me back over. You never even phoned, or came by!”

Oh, the age-old mechanism of the wealthy. There’s something ‘wrong’ with my kid, let’s take him to a shrink to get it fixed. Like taking your car to a mechanic. Richard sighed to himself.

Justin punched the air, and Brian unobtrusively moved closer to him. Justin repeated the move, this time hitting Brian on the arm. He clearly didn’t notice, and Brian didn't react.

Jennifer sighed. “Justin. You’re being unreasonable.”

Brian’s eyebrows shot up, which told Richard that he didn't agree with that assessment.

“Right,” Justin fleered at her. “This is all in my best interest, right? Making me doubt my judgment, making me second-guess myself, and Brian?”

Left arm flailing, Justin caught Brian in the chest.

“Justin,” Brian said softly.

Justin whirled on him, snarling. “What?”

Brian held his eyes. “Do you really want to have this out, here and now?”

“No time like now. She always runs away from it,” Justin said angrily.

Brian bit his lip. “Then tell her the truth.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

“Am, too.”

“Are not,” Brian sighed. “It’s not about her kicking you out. It’s not about her marrying Tucker. It’s about you. You feel she doesn't love you.”

“Well, she fucking doesn't,” Justin sounded stubborn, but seemed to be calming down. 

Switching from anger to sadness, Richard wondered.

“I do,” Jennifer said desperately. “You’re my son. Of course I love you.”

“As long as I fit in. As long as I’m not gay. As long as I pretend I don't exist. As long as you can pretend I don’t exist.”

“That’s not true, Justin,” Jennifer said. “I love you, and I love Molly.”

Justin shook his head, breathing heavily. He stepped closer to Brian, wrapping his arms around his waist.

Brian clasped him in a loose hold, meeting Jennifer’s eyes over Justin’s head.

“I love Justin,” Jennifer said to him.

“Brian loves me,” Justin said weakly. “That’s why I don’t cope very well. It scares me. You don’t, but Brian loves me unconditionally.”

Tears were streaming down Daphne’s face, but she didn't seem to notice. She gestured to Brian, who nodded.

“Let’s get you to bed, Justin,” Brian said gently. “You’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

“I need a shower,” Justin said, wrinkling his nose.

“Yes,” Brian said.

Justin looked toward the bedroom door. “The room is getting bigger.”

“No,” Brian said reassuringly. “We’re not at Hogwarts, young man. Rooms remain the same size, and in the same place, at all times.”

Justin smiled. “You read the books?”

Brian sighed. “Come on, let’s go.”

“You read the books,” Justin sighed happily. “Cool.”

“Shower, bed,” Brian said, pulling Justin in the right direction.

Justin looked across the room, squinting. He shook his head. “I’ll never make it.”

Brian shook his head indulgently, patting Justin’s leg. “Hop, up.”

“I’m too heavy,” Justin protested, already bringing his legs up to Brian’s hip.

Brian rolled his eyes, and carried him into the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buachaill – boy (Irish/Gaelic)  
> mac - son (Irish/Gaelic)
> 
> Et tu, Brute? – You too, Brutus? (Latin)
> 
> Hogwarts - school of witchcraft and wizardry from the Harry Potter novels by J.K. Rowling


	58. Fifty-Eight

“You didn’t, you know,” Daphne said. “You never came by, Jennifer. Even if you didn't want to know how Justin was doing, did it ever occur to you to ask how Brian was managing?”

Jennifer sighed. “I thought Brian would contact me if he needed anything.”

“Like what, one of your kidneys,” Daphne seemed to become angry. “Brian never asks anybody for anything. Besides, Justin is your son. It was your duty to keep an eye on him. I think Justin is right, you love him best when he’s out of sight.”

She blew her nose on one of the paper towels she still held.

“While we’re on the subject,” Daphne looked around. “I don’t know where the fuck all of you were. But I do know where some of you were not. You were not there for Brian.”

“He wouldn’t have wanted me,” Melanie whispered.

“Justin might have,” Daphne shot back. “Brian might have wanted Lindsay. But you pair are about as reliable as the weather. It’s always so much easier to let Brian sort things out on his own, right? Do you know what that was like for him? Any of you? The only people who turned up at the loft were Vic Grassi and myself.”

Richard exchanged a quick look with Jim. Right. No merging of the two worlds of Brian Kinney. He knew that Jim had been there for Brian while his family had taken that trip around the world. Shane would never have left the Burgh for so long if he had thought Brian needed him. Looking back, Richard was glad he had had that time to spend with his wife, his children, and his grandson. They had become even closer than they had been before that journey. But he was horrified that they had left Brian behind. What had they been thinking? Of course, Brian had encouraged them to go, had told them everything would be just peachy. Why had they believed him?

Daphne took a deep breath. “Fine. Imagine. Brian. He’s got a full time job at Ryders, and he needs that job, because not only does he need to keep the loft to look after Justin. He needs to pay the medical bills, because Justin’s father never paid for a fucking thing. Brian paid for Justin's medication, for the rehab, for the therapy. For Justin’s clothes, food, and art supplies, because after that first time, Jennifer, you never gave Brian any more money. How do I know that? Justin went through Brian’s account statements to see how much money you were giving him. Turns out, not a cent. Coming by with a bag of groceries every now and then doesn’t cut it, you know.”

Daphne tossed the paper towels into the wine cooler on the floor.

“Jennifer. Did you know that Brian had to take Justin to rehab and therapy, because Justin was so terrified of other people there was no way he could take the bus? And he refused to get into a car with a stranger. That meant that taxis were out, too. So Brian had to leave work in the middle of the day, and take Justin to where he needed to be. And he had to pick him up, too. You could’ve helped with that. Sometimes, I took him. Or Vic did. But Justin did better when Brian was with him, so Brian usually went.”

“Did you know that Justin had to send Brian an email at the top of every hour? On the dot? If that email didn’t come, Brian dumped everything, ran out of meetings, and left presentations, just to go home and check on Justin.”

“Did you know that Brian was the one who took Justin for walks, so that he could learn to go out on his own again? That Brian was waiting for Justin in some place, and Justin had to make it there on his own? That Vic or I were following Justin, to make sure he was safe, because Brian freaked out about leaving Justin alone outside for even a minute?”

“Did you know that Brian managed to do all that on two or three hours of sleep every night? He had to take work home, because he couldn’t stay in work to get things done. And at night, Justin would have cramps, and Brian learned to do reflexology on his hand so he could help Justin when the therapist wasn’t available.” 

“Then Justin would have nightmares, and Brian would hold him and watch films with him until Justin could sleep again. And the anxiety attacks! You’ve seen this one, and it was a small one. I got there one day, and Justin had almost shredded the loft. He wanted to get away, but we couldn’t let him go, so he used Brian for a punching-bag. And Brian let him do it, and never complained. All these months, and all the stress, and the worries and wild emotions, and Brian never complained. Not once.”

Daphne shook her head. “Justin is right. Only Brian can love you like that.”

She went to the icebox, and took out several bottles of water.

“What are you doing,” Molly asked, her voice strained.

“I’m taking these to Brian. Justin won’t go to sleep if Brian isn’t there. Usually, Brian sings to him, so Justin knows he's with him. One morning, I got there and Brian was totally hoarse, he’d been singing to Justin all night. He had to do a presentation that morning, and at lunch, he had lost his voice altogether. Now, I’m always making sure Brian at least has some water within reach,” Daphne explained.

She went into the bedroom, leaving a silent room full of stunned people behind.

 

“I’ve traded love for pennies, sold my soul for less, lost my ideals in that long tunnel of time, I’ve turned inside out and around about and back and then found myself right back where I started again…” 1

Right back, Justin. Right back to cutting yourself. Right back to kicking walls and punching doors. How did you get by alone?

I wonder how long I need to serenade you tonight.

Still so desperate to have mommy love you? So desperate to have her approval?

She does approve. From afar. You scare her, don’t you know that? You’re uncompromising. She isn’t. Never was. Doesn’t even know what that feels like.

I told you, you’re the best homosexual you can be. 

Straight folks don’t like us when we’re like that. They prefer gays to be shy, and hide behind manners and conventions. Even mothers. 

Especially mothers.

Your hair is still damp, and your eyes are swollen. 

Allergies. 

Yeah. Right. You don’t expect me to believe that? 

You do look so young. Yet, you’re more my equal than anybody else I ever met. Your soul, your mind – they’re older than your body. You know all about the scars a family leaves on you.

Christ. I can’t say I love you. It’s so much more than that.

Justin. My Justin.

Sleep. I’ll be right here, protecting your slumber.

Jeez, Kinney. How lesbionic can you get?

Brian sighed, tightening his hold.

“If I could make days last forever, and words could make wishes come true, I’d save every day like a treasure, and then again, I would spend them with you…” 2

 

After a few moments of whispered conversation, Daphne returned to the living area, carefully shutting the door behind her, effectively cutting off the sound of Brian’s gentle tenor.

Carrie smiled at Vic, who shook his head and grinned at Shane. “Seems like Brian still remembers his Croce.”

Shane grinned back. “Jazz would probably not lull Justin to sleep.”

“Is he asleep,” Molly asked anxiously.

Daphne rubbed her eyes. “Yes. Out like a light. He usually is. As long as Brian keeps singing, he should be fine.”

“Wouldn’t a recording do the trick,” Matt asked.

Daphne studied him for a moment. “Brian wouldn’t dream of doing that. Justin needs him, not just his voice.”

“That’s cheating,” Gus said. “My daddy doesn't cheat.”

Daphne smiled at the boy. “You’re right, Gus. He doesn’t. Your dad is a good person.”

“Sit down, honey,” Carrie said, bringing Daphne a large glass of cool blackcurrant juice. She had noticed the young woman seemed to prefer it. “You look beat.”

Daphne smiled at her, and sank into a chair. “Thank you. Justin does take it out of you when he’s like that.”

Molly joined them at the table and hugged Daphne. “I never knew. Thank you for looking after them.”

“As much as I can,” Daphne sighed. “As much as Brian will let anybody do anything for him.”

Molly nodded. “He’s very reserved, isn’t he.”

“How often has that sort of thing happened,” Carrie asked gently.

Daphne looked up at her, and Carrie pulled out a chair and sat down.

Glancing at Molly, Daphne sighed. “At first, it happened all the time. Brian had to take time off to be with Justin. A whole month of unpaid leave, I wonder how much that set him back.”

Carrie knew how much Shane had earned as an Account Executive back then, and she was certain Brian had always made more money than Shane. A week off would have been tough, but a month… Staggering, even for Brian, who was extremely careful with his money. 

She was aware that almost everybody was under the impression that Brian spent money like water, but a few intimate conversations with her daughter had shown that Brian only made it look like that.

Daphne went on, “Then, it happened when something upset Justin. Only, you'd never be able to tell what it was that got to him. There was a time when Brian had to lock knives, forks, razors, letter openers, and scissors in his safe before he went out. Left alone, Justin cuts himself.”

Molly paled, biting her lip. “Is that why Brian put his arm in between?”

Daphne nodded. “Brian does what he can to protect Justin.”

“Even from himself,” Molly sighed. “Small wonder he’s so in love with Brian.”

Daphne smiled. “Brian's to die for.”

“Next thing you know, Justin will run away again. He hasn’t been to Miami yet, or Canada,” Jennifer said angrily, pouring herself a brandy with impatient hands.

Molly shook her head. “You're a horror, Mom. Is it true you kicked Justin out? I always believed he went to Brian of his own accord.”

“She did,” Daphne said, her eyes flashing. “She went to Ryders and took Brian a duffel bag with all of Justin’s stuff.”

“What,” Vic said. “His life fit in a bag?”

“It still does,” Jim said.

Vic shook his head. “Dad will have something to say. Don’t let him find out.”

“He knows,” Gus said calmly, asking Jennifer for some orange juice. Jennifer hesitated, then poured the drink for the boy and handed him the glass with a forced smile.

“Thank you, Jennifer,” Gus said politely. He turned and widened his eyes at Vic, who clearly had trouble keeping a straight face.

Carrie suppressed her own smile. Gus was already as good at getting to people as his father was.

Vic nodded. “Not happy, huh?”

Gus shrugged. “You know what he says. If you don’t like it, do something about it. He did.”

Jennifer rubbed her forehead. “Which is exactly what I think Justin came back for.”

Gus frowned at her, but Jim spoke first. “It's not. I have no idea why you have your own son pegged as the mercantile sort. Justin came back because he missed Brian, pure and simple.”

“My father wouldn’t fall for the material kind, Jennifer. And if we’re back to discussing their relationship rather than the one you have with your son, I’m out of here. I trust my dad to know what’s good for him,” Vic added.

Jennifer wearily sat at the table. “There’s not much I can say.”

“You could tell us why you didn't kick out Craig, instead of Justin,” Molly frowned at her.

Jennifer frowned back. “Do you think it’s that easy to end a relationship? Your father always acted on impulse. He thought he was protecting his son when he went after Brian.”

Molly snorted derisively, and Carrie immediately thought of Brian. Had Molly picked up other habits from him?

“He didn’t want to protect Justin. He wanted to vent his frustration. I was a kid, but I still had ears. I know you went to the GLC to see Justin’s art. I know you saw him with Brian, and I know Debbie bad-mouthed Brian to you the very same day. Then you came back and whined to Craig about how Justin was in love with ‘an older man’. You made it sound as though Brian was a hundred years old! I was totally surprised when I finally got to meet him. I hadn't expected him to be so young, or so gorgeous. You’d made him sound like some ogre who eats little boys for dinner!”

“It was a shock to find out Justin was gay,” Jennifer said defensively. “I’m sorry, I didn't know how Craig was going to react.”

“Sorry is bullshit,” Molly said, answering Carrie’s question about her other habits. “And the rest is a fucking lie. You were married to the jerk for twenty years, and you tell me you still didn't know he was a homophobic asshole with a pea for a brain?”

“Language,” Daphne and Vic said in unison, making everybody laugh nervously.

“Come here, brother,” Vic said, holding out his hand to Gus. “I’ll protect you from girls with bad language.”

Gus went to him, but smiled at Molly. “I agree with my daddy. He’s thinks Molly is cute, clever, and real pretty.”

Molly blushed.

“I thought Dad had told you not to repeat conversations, Gus,” Vic grinned.

Gus frowned. “But that was an opinion. Wasn’t it? Can’t you repeat an opinion, either?”

“You got me there,” Vic admitted. “You’d better ask Dad.”

Molly winked at Gus. “Whatever he says, thank you for telling me.”

Gus grinned, and Carrie had the distinct impression he knew full well that Molly would have given her right arm to hear that compliment.

Jennifer sighed and rose. “I’ll go and get some sleep. You’ll have to excuse me, I don’t feel so good.”

Tucker drew a deep breath. “I’m coming with.”

They left together, and Molly looked after them with a frown. “Justin is right. She does run away.”

“It's hardly fair to expect her to discuss this sort of thing in front of everybody,” Ben said slowly.

Molly glared at him. “It was hardly fair of her to drag Justin in here, just to have a go at him while Brian's back was turned. She started it!”

Daphne sighed and finished her juice. “And I think it’s hardly fair everybody sorts out their private stuff on Brian’s turf. He worked really hard the last couple of weeks, and I was hoping he’d get some rest before he has to travel next week.”

“You’re right,” Melanie sighed. “However, it seems we’re all connected to Brian in some way, and we can’t sort ourselves out without his help.”

“Maybe that’s true,” Daphne conceded. “But it is necessary to be so aggressive and argumentative about it? For adults, you’re behaving abysmally.”

Vic grinned at her. “I never knew you were that outspoken.”

Daphne sighed. “I’m outspoken when I’m furious.”

Vic nodded. “Yeah. Furious on Brian’s behalf, or on Justin’s?”

“Both,” Daphne said immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Lyrics “Age” by Jim Croce, from the album “Time in a Bottle”  
> 2 Lyrics “Time in a bottle” by Jim Croce, from the album “Time in a Bottle”


	59. Fifty-Nine

He couldn’t take the disappointment. Determinedly, Justin squeezed his eyes shut and curled closer into the warmth of the body next to him. 

Why had he taken somebody home? 

No. 

Not his lumpy bed. Somebody had taken him home.

And now he didn’t know where he was, or who he was with. Had he been drugged?

Cautiously, he breathed in the scent of the stranger who held him so firmly. Fuck, he smelled just like Brian. Was that why he had gone with him?

The guy was singing, very quietly. Nice voice, Justin thought. Not very strong, but it carried the tune well.

Jim Croce? Only Brian was allowed to sing Croce to him. Fuck this jerk.

Actually, if he interpreted the signals from his body correctly, he had. More than once. What was that all about? When he hadn’t even felt like having sex in months?

Damn. Where had he been in the evening? He couldn’t remember. Again. At this rate, he’d have to hide out in his tiny apartment for good, only popping out for groceries now and then. What kind of life was that? Why hadn’t he stayed in the Burgh? Where he had had Brian, where he had been loved, where he had been safe.

Sighing, Justin gritted his teeth and opened his eyes.

Familiar hazel eyes met his, with a concerned expression.

“Justin,” Brian whispered. “What are you doing awake?”

Stunned, Justin could only stare. 

Seconds ticked by, and Brian repeated his name, softly.

“You’re real,” Justin said, not surprised his voice was shaky. “You’re really here.”

Brian drew him closer, rubbing a gentle hand across his back. “Shh, everything is fine. Go back to sleep.”

“Put the light on,” Justin demanded hastily. “I need more light.”

The bedroom was filled with a very soft light, a dim bluish glow that outlined the furniture. It wasn’t strong enough to show people’s features clearly, and right now, he needed to be certain he really was with Brian.

Sighing, Brian sat up and reached for the light switch, and golden light spilled into the room.

Brian blinked against the brightness, then met his eyes. “Bad dream?”

Justin flung himself at Brian, peppering his face with kisses, eager fingers touching every bit of skin he could reach.

Eyebrow on the rise, Brian dropped backward, his arms flung wide. 

Delighted, Justin used the position to his advantage. 

Brian put up with his frenzied love-attack for a while, but then he caught Justin's hands and pushed him onto his back.

“Tell me,” he demanded. “You’re not normally this uncoordinated.”

His wrists in Brian’s firm hold, Brian leaning over him – Justin didn’t want to explain, and he didn’t want to talk.

Right now, it was enough to feel.

Brian waited for a long moment, then shrugged and released him, pulling him into a hug. Exhaling, Justin nestled as close as possible.

They remained silent for a while, and Justin drew comfort from Brian’s regular breathing, and a warm hand that traced lazy patterns on his back.

“When you woke up, you said I was real,” Brian finally murmured. “What makes you think I’m not?”

Justin drew a shuddering breath. “For the last year, you weren’t real. I’d dream about you, and when I woke up, you were gone. It hurt, every time.”

He moved back a little to look into Brian’s eyes. “I once said in class that yearning means wanting something so badly that it hurts. I didn’t know then, but now I know. I never knew it would hurt so much. And only you make that pain go away.”

Brian met his eyes, then looked away. He said nothing.

“Brian,” Justin whispered. “Last night. You do know.”

A long moment of hesitation, then Brian met his eyes again. “Yes. I know.”

Their eyes held for a long time, and then they moved together for a tender kiss. 

Justin opened his lips; he needed to be close to Brian, needed more.

Brian seemed to feel the same way; he accepted the unspoken invitation willingly.

There was no finesse to their lovemaking; it was all about eager bodies and desperate minds bringing them together.

Justin hardly felt it when Brian entered him, all that registered was warmth, and a sense of completeness.

Orgasm wasn’t the wild ride it usually was, it seemed to flow from an entirely different space this time. A space that was only partly physical. Most of it seemed to well up from a place in his heart and psyche, and Justin felt as though something dark had been drained from him as well.

Satisfied, Justin wrapped himself around Brian. His arms circled Brian, his legs clamped down on Brian’s, and he pressed as close as he could.

Brian tilted his head back, looked at him, and raised that eyebrow. 

Justin held his eyes. He knew they didn’t need words.

Brian smiled, a slow and languid smile. He rubbed his cheek against his shoulder, and moments later, his even breathing told Justin that Brian had fallen asleep.

Taking a deep breath, Justin gave silent thanks to whatever power that had brought him back home.

 

Clad only in his swim trunks, Shane watched as the dark figure made its way to the pool and dropped into it almost without a splash.

Silently, he began to count. Mississippi one, Mississippi two, Mississippi three…

After eighty seconds, he approached the pool, just as Brian surfaced.

“Stop counting, Shane,” Brian said calmly. “I’m not about to drown in my own fucking pool.”

Shane sighed and slid into the pool as well. He pulled Brian close, and felt his arms come around his waist.

“Chilling,” he asked quietly.

Brian nodded, and Shane felt the sigh more than he heard it.

One of those moments, he realized. He held tight, keeping Brian afloat. 

The pool was still warm from the day’s sunlight, but it felt cooler than the night-air.

Shane knew that Brian needed the feeling of weightlessness as much as he needed the water’s coolness.

Brian rested against him, immobile and silent.

He wondered where Brian’s mind went at such times, but even he had never found out. As far as he knew, neither had Erin. Did Justin know? 

Did Brian?

It seemed a long time before Brian stirred.

“I’m okay now,” he murmured. “Thanks, Shane.”

“Anytime,” Shane said easily and got out of the pool together with Brian. He handed him a towel. “Did you bring clothes?”

Accepting the towel without surprise, Brian shook his head.

Shane tossed a pair of his own sweatpants and a sweater at him. “We don’t want to scare the dykes, after all.”

Brian grimaced, but slipped the clothes on.

Shane put on his own clothes, rubbing his arms against the chill. Brian didn’t seem to feel it. 

“Why didn’t you just jump into the shower,” Shane asked, even though he thought he knew the answer.

“Justin,” Brian said simply.

“Didn’t bother you when Judson was sleeping in that bed,” Shane commented.

Brian shrugged. “You know I can be a right asshole.”

“You’ve improved,” Shane grinned.

“What, you mean all this time I was an inferior asshole?”

Shane sniggered and went to the bar. “Jim Beam, Brian?”

Brian shook his head. “Jim will kill me.”

Shane smiled. “Good job I made some coffee.”

Brian smiled back. “Sucker.”

Grinning, Shane brought two mugs filled with the aromatic brew and handed one to Brian.

Together, they curled into the swing seat, sipping silently.

Shane put an arm around Brian and drew him close. “Mom said they will keep an eye on him.”

Brian sighed. “I know they will. I’m too old for him, Shane.”

Startled, Shane laughed. “Much too old. What was he complaining about, your dentures, or the walking stick?”

“Remember what we were like at that age?”

“You mean crazy?”

Brian nodded against his shoulder. “Exactly. I’m worried Justin is missing out on crazy. Maybe he’ll blame me for it, in ten years, or in twenty. I don’t want him to feel that I’ve stolen his youth.”

“Brian,” Shane shook his head. “What happened to worrying about the shit you can deal with, and leaving the rest alone?”

Brian drew a deep breath, but said nothing.

“Is that why you wanted him to go back to PIFA,” Shane finally asked.

“I thought he’d meet people his own age, do some of the silly stuff we did,” Brian said softly.

“Does he have problems making friends?”

“My gut feeling says no, but he seemed much more interested in spending time with me,” Brian said.

“Now, why would he want to do that,” Shane mused. “What a strange thing to do, spending time with the guy you’re in love with.”

“Idiot. You’re not getting me.”

“I get you just fine. Let me talk to Vic and Hunter, they like Justin. We’ll do crazy with him, and you owe us a big fancy dinner at that new French restaurant on the Strip.”

“Don’t let him find out,” Brian warned.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make him believe we’re feeling sorry for him. We probably will feel sorry for him, come to think of it,” Shane grinned.

“Cute,” Brian muttered. “You’re an okay guy, you know.”

“Can I have that in writing,” Shane laughed.

Two men wandered into the pool area, and Shane shared a grin with Brian when they heard Dave say, “Do I smell coffee? At this hour?”

“Brian's awake,” Ken said. “Bri?”

“The swing seat,” Brian said, and Dave and Ken came nearer.

“There’s enough coffee, if you want some,” Shane said.

“Not for me,” Dave yawned. “I’ll get myself a soda. Coffee, Ken?”

“Sure, thanks,” Ken replied, settling in one of the deck-chairs. “Lovely air tonight, isn’t it?”

“Mh-mm,” Brian agreed, raising an eyebrow.

Dave returned with a mug for Ken and a glass of water for himself, and glanced at Brian. “Is Justin okay?”

“No,” Shane scoffed. “That’s why Brian is sitting out here, what do you think?”

“Quite the show, Brian,” Dave said, unfazed.

“Show?”

There was enough light for Shane to see that Brian was frowning in consternation.

“The way Rage came to the rescue,” Dave needled. “Flying over furniture, pushing obstacles out of the way…”

“Jerk,” Brian muttered. “I noticed you didn’t do anything. Aren’t you guys trained to deal with such emergencies?”

“You got there before we did, precious,” Ken said gently. “We’d been upstairs talking to Leda and Molly, and we came down when we heard Jennifer starting to yell. Before we knew it, you were there.”

Brian shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

Ken nodded, and Shane had the distinct impression that Dave and Ken had planned this conversation.

“How come he can’t stand a paper-bag,” Dave asked.

Brian sighed. “He woke up in the ambulance, just for a moment. He doesn’t remember it, but he tried to get rid of the respiratory mask. I guess anything that goes over his mouth and nose reminds him.”

“So you breathe for him? Looked like you had done that a lot,” Dave offered.

“I have,” Brian said.

“Putting those 80 seconds to good use,” Ken murmured.

“And you told Gus you love Justin,” Dave added. “Wow.”

Brian shrugged. “I noticed that kicking everybody out worked really well.”

“I must admit,” Ken said softly, “I’d never thought I’d see the day when you'd put your mouth near somebody's vomit.”

“Yeah,” Brian mocked. “When putting your tongue in somebody’s hole is so much more hygienic.”

“That’s not what you said to Gus,” Ken commented.

“Well, he knows all about butt-plugs and penis-pumps already, thanks to a certain fucking bastard. I guess we’ll wait to discuss rimming until he's just a bit older,” Brian scoffed.

“Thanks,” Dave made a face. “I didn’t need that.”

Brian shrugged. “And I didn’t need this conversation, but there you are. What do you really want?”

“I told you,” Ken laughed.

Dave sighed. “I thought I was being clever.”

“Not clever enough,” Shane smirked, and got to his feet. “Refill, Bri?”

Brian nodded and handed him his cup. Ken held his out as well.

“I’m no waiter,” Shane protested. “I can’t carry three full cups.”

“Use a tray,” Ken said, unmoved.

“Top drawer, first on the right,” Brian added.

Shaking his head, Shane went into the kitchen.

Returning quickly, he heard Brian’s voice, “So, what?”

Ken sighed audibly. “What's with Jennifer?”

Brian stayed silent, then apparently came to a decision. “I’ll tell you, because Justin may need your help. But it can’t go any further.”

Shane nodded, and saw that Ken and Dave did, too.

Brian sipped his hot coffee pensively. “I took Molly shopping a while ago. Jennifer had decided that one dress would do her for their wedding, her prom, and the AA awards. They’re a bit tight, don’t ask me why. I offered to buy the girl a dress for the AA awards; after all, she was going as my guest. Jennifer didn’t like it, but Molly was jumping for joy.”

“So fuck Jennifer,” Dave grinned.

Brian shrugged.

“That’s a terrific dress,” Shane said. “Molly looks beautiful in it.”

“Molly is a sweetie. She was trying hard to find a cheaper dress, but I knew this was the one she really wanted. So I persuaded her to try it on, and it does look like it was made for her. Of course, we had to buy it then. She was so happy with her purchase, she flung her arms around my neck and kissed me. Unfortunately, her father was there with his floozy.”

“Craig,” Ken asked.

Brian nodded. “I saw the look, and then he was following us. I’ve no idea what the jerk was thinking, that I’d gone straight or something? Or maybe he figured it’s my aim in life to corrupt all his kids. Anyway, I took Molly home, and when I went back to my car, there was this sedan that almost ran me over. I got out of the way, only just. Jennifer was in the door, and she’d seen the car. I think she recognized Craig just fine, but she didn't say anything.”

“Nice,” Dave muttered.

Brian shrugged. “None of her business what the ex does, is it? Next thing I know, on my way home the same sedan keeps banging into me. By that time, I was getting pissed. One fender bender was quite enough, but he kept at it. I stopped off at the club, and he came at me with a wrench. My bouncers sent him on his way, and I said I’d go to the police.”

Brian sipped his coffee. “Next morning, Jen turns up at the office, begging me to leave Craig be.”

“Interesting,” Ken muttered. “They’re still talking?”

“Clearly. Then again, they have two children together. Kids are a good reason to stay in touch; otherwise, I would’ve stopped talking to Lindsay ages ago. Jen also said that Craig is still paying for Molly’s education.”

“Can’t they afford to pay, they can’t be that short,” Dave said.

“I don’t know, their finances are none of my business. I only know that realtors aren’t making that much money these days. There’s no reason why Tucker should have to pitch in, quite apart from the fact that teachers don’t exactly become rich in their line of work.”

“So you left it,” Ken concluded.

Brian sighed, “I left it. Besides, having your dad in jail is not a good marketing strategy for an up and coming artist.”

“Is that Jennifer’s opinion,” Dave asked.

Shane said impatiently, “No. Jennifer doesn’t think about Justin. As far as she’s concerned, the family consists of Tucker and herself, and then Molly.”

“You don't like her,” Dave muttered.

“I agree with Brian. As a person, she’s great. As a mother, she sucks.”

“Why aren’t you kicking her out, she’s forever on Justin’s case,” Dave asked.

“She’s Justin’s mother. I told him it’s up to him – he wants her gone, he kicks her out. I like Tucker, and Jen and I get along. I have no reason to ditch her, but if that’s what Justin wants, I’m cool with it.”

Just then, a shadow darkened the doorway, and Brian said, “Over here, Justin.”

Wearing only a T-shirt and boxers, the young man came over to the swing seat and sat next to Brian. Shane saw that he had his fingers wrapped around a mug, and smelled the coffee.

Wordlessly, Justin leaned against Brian.

“You okay, Justin,” Ken asked.

“Yeah,” Justin muttered. “Sorry about the fuss earlier.”

“I see you found the coffee,” Shane grinned.

“I smelled it, and I couldn’t resist,” Justin yawned.

“Have you thought about therapy,” Dave asked.

Justin snorted. “Don’t you think Brian would have come up with that idea? It didn't work. They kept telling me to breathe evenly and think about a nice walk on the beach or some such shit, and then the attacks would go away.”

“And do they,” Dave prodded.

“What do you think? I bet I’ve walked more beaches than there are in the whole fucking US of A. Guess what, I still get them.”

“Maybe it was the wrong therapist, you might look for somebody else,” Ken suggested.

“I’ve been to several, because Brian doesn’t give up easily,” Justin grinned at Brian, who shrugged. “They all told me to face the situation, keep going into such situations and it would get easier. Walk a beach, imagine you’re in a favorite place, in your safe place, with somebody who keeps you safe… none of that worked.” Justin sighed gustily.

“How did you cope in New York,” Ken asked gently.

“I’m here,” Justin said. 

Shane saw that he shot a quick look at Brian.

“Here, Brian takes care of you,” Dave persisted. “Who looked after you in New York?”

Shane felt Brian tense, and knew that Justin must have felt the same thing. Or maybe it was Justin’s tension that Brian transmitted?

“I have some friends who can see to it that he’s never heard from again,” Shane grinned.

“Don’t tempt me,” Brian smirked.

Justin rubbed his nose against Brian’s cheek, and winked. 

Shane winked back.

“You could try medication,” Ken suggested.

“Hell, why didn't we think of that,” Brian said sardonically. “That’s a brilliant idea. Especially for somebody with more allergies than leukocytes.”

“I’d be happy to try something new,” Justin said softly. “Anxiety attacks aren’t all that much fun.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Brian to the rescue at the drop of a hat? That must be great for you.”

“Jerk,” Brian said, and gave Shane a folded piece of paper. Shane wondered where that had come from. “Have him killed at your earliest convenience.”

“What’s that,” Ken asked, pointing.

“A blank check,” Brian shot back. “I always have one on me, for those occasions when some shrink suggests my partner has anxiety attacks because he gets something out of it.”

“Are you saying he doesn’t,” Ken asked quietly.

“Two broken fingers, lots of bruises, quite a few cuts, and a sprained ankle in New York. Very rewarding,” Brian said coldly, and added, “I reconsidered, Shane. Have both of them done away with. Come on, Justin, let’s get back to bed.”

Smirking at Dave, Justin got up with Brian.

“Sweet dreams,” Justin grinned and followed Brian into the house.

 

“He called him his partner,” Ken said.

Shane rolled his eyes, certain that Ken and Dave would be able to see that even in the dim light. “Yeah, yeah. And he tells everybody that he loves Justin. Get over it.”

Dave chuckled. “We thought you didn't like the kid.”

“I was playing devil’s advocate, you dimwit,” Shane sighed. “I wanted to be sure that he’s really what Brian wants. Wanted to be sure he’s worth leaving Judson over.”

“And you risked Brian’s wrath?”

“Yes, Ken. It’s not the first time, and it probably won’t be the last.”

“Weird dynamics,” Dave muttered. “Couldn’t you just talk to him?”

Shane laughed. “Yeah. Why didn’t I think of that, seeing as Brian is so talkative.”

“Uncommunicative, even with you,” Ken asked, taking a swallow of his coffee.

“Brian tells you what he thinks you need to know. Not a word more.”

“What about your parents, he seems close to them,” Dave commented.

Shane nodded. “He is, especially to my dad. However, I guess one of the reasons why he’s close to them is because they never pressure him for information.”

“Good point,” Ken conceded.

“So, why pester Justin,” Shane asked.

Ken exhaled. “Brian will probably worry about Justin the whole time he's gone. We thought he’d worry a bit less if he knew Justin was getting help for the anxiety attacks.”

“You could’ve talked to me first,” Shane said. “Brian kept an eye on Justin the entire time when he was in New York. How do you think he knows all about those injuries? He’ll know what’s going on with his partner in Pittsburgh, you can bet your PhD on that.”

“Obsessed, much,” Dave asked, lifting his eyebrows.

“Not at all,” Shane said. “He’s obsessed with his kids, especially Gus. But not with Justin.”

“You know him better than we do,” Ken admitted. “Did he tell you about Justin’s problems?”

“Why do you ask?”

“If one of my friends sported cuts and bruises all the time, I’d wonder whether they ended up in an abusive relationship. I’d ask,” Ken explained.

“It's almost impossible to beat up on Brian,” Shane said. “Unless he lets you.”

“Are you saying he let Justin’s father beat up on him,” Dave asked.

Shane nodded. “Better to go down and take a beating from one guy rather than start a fight with a whole gang. He didn’t know it was Justin’s father until after.”

“Fuck,” Ken said. “Was Brian’s father abusive?”

“You met his sister. What do you suppose?”

“You’re not very forthcoming,” Ken observed.

“I’m reluctant to discuss Brian's business,” Shane said. “I know you mean well, but I’d rather you ask him.”

Dave grunted and got to his feet, “Good point. You’re going to stay in the Burgh, aren’t you?”

Shane nodded. “I’ll be minding the store for Brian.”

Ken finished his coffee and handed his cup to Dave, who collected cups and glasses and put everything on the tray to take it into the kitchen.

Stretching, Ken rose. “I guess we’ll be your support group, then.”

Shane got up as well. “Brian would appreciate that, I’m sure. I know I will. Good night, guys!”


	60. Sixty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just so you all know, this is the last update for now. Family matters - I'll be away until the middle of February. Take care, everybody!

Not sure what had woken her, Melanie opened her eyes. Disoriented, she tried to get her bearings. Right. The boy’s room. But where was Gus? When she crawled into his bed, the kid had been fast asleep.

Yawning, Melanie threw back the blanket. Even if Gus had only gone to the bathroom, she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep before she knew where he was.

Quietly, she padded across the dimly lit hallway in her bare feet to check on JR. Finding the bed empty, she shrugged. Typical.

She slipped down the stairs just as Brian and Justin walked in. 

Melanie stopped halfway down, smiling to herself. Brian had both arms around Justin, and his mouth in Justin’s hair. How they could even move like that was a mystery, but move they did.

Justin smiled up at Brian, it wasn’t his normal cheery grin. A tender, furtive smile.

They vanished into the bedroom, and Melanie continued on her way. Quickly, she checked the kitchen area, but nobody was there. Not that she had really expected anything else, because Brian would have said something if he had found the children awake. The living room was empty, and they weren’t in the library, either.

Melanie wondered whether the kids had decided to sleep in Brian's bed again. Silently, she pushed open the bathroom door. She crossed the ultra-tidy bathroom, enjoying the feel of the smooth cool tiles under her bare soles, and made her way through the wardrobe – how could any one guy own so many clothes! – and halted in the doorway of the bedroom.

Brian was leaning against the other door, fingers twisted in Justin’s T-shirt, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. Standing on tiptoe, Justin had both hands in Brian’s hair, kissing him fervently.

I should get out of here, Melanie thought.

Justin resolutely tugged the sweater over Brian’s head. “You could’ve just showered, you know,” he murmured.

Brian snorted. “You were fast asleep.”

Justin pulled Brian close for another deep kiss. “So what,” he said, his hands on Brian’s waistband. “At least you’d not end up wearing clothes that are too big on you.”

“Since when does that bother you,” Brian laughed softly.

“I get jealous,” Justin murmured. “I don’t want to smell Shane on you.”

“You don’t honestly think he’d give me anything but freshly laundered clothes,” Brian snorted again.

“Would it bother you if he didn’t,” Justin asked.

“No, it wouldn’t,” Brian sighed. “We've been wearing each other’s clothes since we were kids, slept in each other’s beds, shared tricks and occasionally done each other’s jobs. What’s this, Justin? A debate about principles, at this time of the day?”

“Night,” Justin corrected. “No.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know. You’ve never worn my clothes.”

Brian laughed, and Melanie grinned at the pictures her ever-active imagination instantly provided.

“What do you want to see me in,” Brian asked, his amusement evident. “Jeans that are way too short on me, top and bottom, or T-shirts that end somewhere in the vicinity of my belly button?”

“Are you sure it’s not just because you don’t like my style?”

“Style? What style,” Brian grinned. “Come on, Justin. What kind of style do you think Shane’s sweatpants are?”

Justin leaned against Brian’s shoulder, head turned sideways, and Melanie could see him biting his lip.

“Justin,” Brian said gently. “Listen to me. Are you listening?”

“Yes,” Justin murmured. “I’m listening.”

“It’s not the clothes. You don't want anybody else close to me. Nobody comes as close as you do. Nobody.”

Justin took a deep breath. “I’m an idiot, right?”

Melanie watched as Brian tipped up Justin’s chin.

“Sometimes I forget that you aren’t all that experienced where relationships are concerned either,” Brian said.

“I need to know you love me best,” Justin admitted in a small voice, his forehead against Brian’s chest.

Melanie winced in sympathy. She knew the feeling.

Brian drew his lips into his mouth, inhaling audibly. “I do love you best, Justin. Always have, always will.”

Justin looked up sharply, and their eyes held for a long moment.

Melanie knew the effort it must cost reticent Brian to actually say that – how badly he must want things to work out between Justin and himself!

Justin reached up and kissed Brian, his tenderness bringing tears to Melanie’s eyes. Damn, they were beautiful together.

Her niggling unease vanished entirely as she continued to watch, mesmerized.

Justin maneuvered Brian onto the bed, pushing the sweatpants down his legs at the same time. Brian shifted, making room for Justin and drawing him into a long kiss.

“Let me,” Justin finally said determinedly, grabbing Brian's wrists and pinning his arms down next to his head. “No moving!”

“Little tomcat. Think you can move me?” Brian smiled a crooked little smile, half challenge, half capitulation.

Justin’s face lit, and he carded his fingers into Brian’s hair, forcing his head back and exposing his long neck. “I used to be able to,” he murmured, kissing his way up Brian’s jugular. “Let’s see how much I remember.”

Melanie licked her lips. She should have taken a closer look that day on the tanning bed. For a guy, Brian was actually quite sexy. Perfect skin. Long, lean lines, well-sculpted muscles… not half bad. Not that she was in any position to judge, but he also seemed pretty well endowed. Small wonder Justin wanted the goods all to himself.

Odd shadows on his legs though. What could he have done that left marks on the insides of his legs? Were the horses to blame? Or had he injured himself messing with the kids?

Justin gently blew into Brian’s hairline, and Melanie heard Brian draw a deep breath. Then Justin ran his lips all over Brian’s face, avoiding his mouth. 

Melanie wondered vaguely how long Brian would put up with that.

Justin didn’t seem to be in any kind of rush, he continued to kiss, lick and suck down Brian’s neck in a leisurely fashion that would have driven her mad. Brian just lay there immobile, breathing deeply, eyes closed and obviously perfectly happy to let Justin get on with it.

Slowly, Justin made his way down to Brian’s nipples. He stuck his tongue out to stab at one of them, his eyes on Brian’s face. Brian moaned softly, and Justin repeated the action. Another moan, and Justin grinned wickedly, doing it again. Brian hissed, and opened his eyes, looking at Justin.

Justin smiled innocently. “I just wanted to see whether you’d fallen asleep on me.”

“I’ll get you back,” Brian threatened huskily.

Justin grinned. “I was hoping you'd say that.”

Brian grunted and let his head drop back, closing his eyes again.

Still smiling, Justin locked his lips around the nipple, and Brian jerked. 

Justin chuckled, and his cheeks hollowed as he sucked. An odd sound from Brian, and Justin moved to the other nipple, applying the same torture there.

Brian's hands balled into fists, and his breathing became labored.

Justin shot a quick look at Brian’s face, smirked, and laid his open mouth over Brian's belly button, sucking once more. Brian arched his back, hissing again.

“You’re not supposed to move,” Justin warned, his voice unexpectedly deep and dark. “Unless you want me to stop?”

“I want you to stop. Stop teasing,” Brian grumbled breathlessly.

Justin raised his eyebrows. “Too bad. I only just started teasing you. And there’s not a thing you can do about it.”

“Fuck you,” Brian exhaled.

“Not now, stud,” Justin grinned. “You’ll have to make do with what you get.”

“I’m not getting any,” Brian protested.

Justin laughed. “Keep complaining and I’ll go take a nice long shower.”

Brian met his eyes, smiling. “As if.”

“You want to test that theory,” Justin murmured, closing his fingers on Brian's dick.

“Not now, no,” Brian said, his head dropping back again.

Justin smiled, wet his lips and pressed his mouth to Brian’s side, teeth nipping sharply and leaving a mark.

Brian moaned. Melanie could see his muscles quivering, but somehow, he managed to keep from moving.

“Good boy,” Justin praised, and kissed the abused spot. His tongue gleaming wetly in the dim light, he trailed a spur of spit all over Brian's stomach, finally following the treasure trail south.

Brian opened his legs invitingly, and Justin laughed. “That's one movement I’ll let you get away with.”

Brian exhaled impatiently, and Justin sniggered. “You seem out of practice a little. Normally, you last longer.”

Brian raised his head and looked at him, but said nothing.

“Oh,” Justin said after a long moment. “Oops. Want me to go a bit faster?”

“A big bit,” Brian said, teeth clenched.

“Why didn’t you say,” Justin murmured, shifting and taking Brian into his mouth.

Brian took a deep breath, and let go.

Melanie could see the exact moment it hit him, in the way his head snapped back, eyes squeezing shut, mouth gaping open, and in the film of sweat that suddenly covered his whole body.

Justin rode it out, then crawled up, gathering Brian to him, his arms tightening visibly.

“Are you okay, Bri?”

“Just dandy,” Brian mumbled drowsily. “And if you do that again, I’ll feed your liver to an eagle.”

The statement made no sense to Melanie, but Justin tittered. “Stole the fire, did I?”

Instead of replying, Brian reached for him.

 

“You left the door open,” Justin said after a while, sounding stunned. “When you normally lock them to keep people out. I’m so stupid.”

Oh shit! Had he spotted her? Melanie tried to press deeper into the shadows, without making a sound.

“Did not,” Brian replied sleepily. “I always lock it when the kids are around.”

“Not this door,” Justin said stubbornly, sitting up. “The one at the loft.”

“What are you, psychic? I’m pretty sure the loft is locked. Otherwise security would’ve let me know.” Brian yawned.

“Not now,” Justin said. “When I brought back the bracelet.”

Brian rolled over, facing away from Justin. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about,” he said edgily.

Melanie could see his face, and saw pain.

Justin moved closer, speaking against Brian’s back, his voice muffled. “You said it was time I got back to my boyfriend, and you left the door open. I thought you meant Ethan, but of course you didn’t. You were saying I should come home. How do you put up with me?”

Melanie watched as Brian closed his eyes, biting his lips. How that must have hurt! 

She winced, remembering she and Lindsay had cheered Justin’s decision to leave Brian. Why had he broken up with the violinist again? She couldn’t recall, and wondered whether she had ever known. But she knew that she had been floored when Brian had taken Justin back, apparently without ado, or any attempt at getting even.

Brian turned, pulling Justin into his arms. “Forget it,” he said gently. “It’s in the past.”

Justin sighed. “I’m totally dense.”

“I thought we had decided not to,” Brian murmured. “Get some sleep.”

Justin shook his head. “I can’t sleep now.”

Brian clucked his tongue. “Well, if you’d rather stay awake and beat up on yourself…”

Justin moved closer, pillowing his head on Brian’s shoulder. “It’s appalling, looking back at all the mistakes I made.”

“Don’t take all the credit. You didn't make all the mistakes,” Brian said wryly. “I seem to recall I made a few.”

“You never left me,” Justin protested.

“I tried.”

Justin snorted. “There is no try. Do, or don’t do.”

“Right, Yoda 1. You’re the expert, after all.”

“That was a rather weak attempt, Brian,” Justin murmured. “You didn’t apply for any other jobs in New York after that first one fell through.”

Brian pulled his lips into his mouth, and stayed silent.

Melanie remembered that she had been wondering why Brian didn’t just go for some other job. She was aware several headhunters had been after him.

“Trying doesn’t count,” Justin said decisively.

“Kicking you out is different, is it?”

Justin sighed again. “Yes. You kicked me out because you were pissed, and you had good reason to be. You never dumped me because I refused to do things your way.”

“Maybe I’m a little more patient than you are,” Brian said, sounding amused.

“You’re actually a lot more patient than I am,” Justin admitted sheepishly.

Brian snorted. “The wisdom of my ripe old age.”

Justin laughed. “Ripe, yes, old age - no.”

“And just what, young man, do you hope to achieve with such smooth talk?”

Without the ever-present layer of sarcasm, Brian actually had a really nice voice. And that smile… a genuine smile, tender and open. She was pretty certain only Justin ever got to see that expression, half teasing, half expectant.

Melanie closed her eyes. If she wasn’t careful, she’d go straight over Brian Kinney here. And what a hoot that would be.

Justin smiled brightly. “Well, the one thing that’s guaranteed to give me a good night’s rest…”

Brian raised his right eyebrow.

Mhh, dashing, Melanie thought. And then firmly told herself to stop that nonsense. Brian was too thin for her taste, anyway. Besides being a guy, of course.

Justin leaned forward, whispering softly.

“I want you inside me,” Melanie heard. 

Surely not? There was no way Brian could get it up again so quickly, right? Wrong, she realized upon taking a closer look.

Brian leaned over Justin, kissing him. Gently at first, then with more passion.

Melanie stared in rapt fascination, breath held. The almost inaudible voice of her conscience insisted that this wasn’t right, that she was intruding. Melanie shushed it by recalling that Brian did it in the baths, and in the back room of Babylon. Sometimes even in the streets. He was the epitome of exhibitionism.

“Turn over,” Brian murmured.

Justin shook his head. “I want to look at you.”

Captivated, Melanie watched as Brian hovered above Justin's mouth for a long moment, almost, but not quite touching. Then he ran his tongue over Justin’s lower lip, and sucked on it. Justin moaned, arched his back, and carded his fingers into Brian’s hair, holding him in place.

Brian pulled his head free and kissed his way down Justin’s chest, his hands on Justin’s shoulders. To Melanie, it looked as though Brian now was holding Justin where he wanted him.

Sighing softly, Justin opened the drawer and dug around for something.

“What are you looking for,” Brian asked, running his fingers over Justin’s nipples.

“Lube,” Justin replied shortly.

“It’s…”

“I know,” Justin interrupted, coming up with the right tube. “Left corner, top pointing in. You’re anal, you know that?”

“Funny you should say that.” Brian chuckled and took it off him. “I prefer to think of myself as well organized.”

“That’s what I just said. Anal. Nobody else organizes their lube and condoms.”

“Justin. Are we shooting the shit, or are we fucking?”

Justin rolled his eyes. “I can do both. It’s called multi-tasking.”

Brian pulled his lips into his mouth, moved back and looked down at Justin. “I welcome the mental image that comment conjures. Not.”

Justin seemed taken aback for a moment, then giggled.

Fortunate for Melanie, because the sound covered her own snigger.

“Sleep well, Justin,” Brian said mildly, turning over, his back to Justin.

“Hey,” Justin protested, poking Brian in the ribs. “Come back here. Finish what you started.”

Brian yawned widely. “Forget it. Do yourself.”

Frowning, Melanie tried to understand the dynamics here. She squinted, straining to see Brian’s face. Was he grinning?

Justin stared at the ceiling for a long moment, lips pursed. Finally, he sighed and said, “Okay, I cave. I won’t say another word.”

Brian shifted, looking at Justin over his shoulder. “Wrong take, dear heart.”

“Don’t call me that,” Justin shook his head. “What do you want?”

Brian turned back, grabbed Justin’s hair and hauled him into a long kiss. Then he let go. “You think you can talk while I fuck you? Prove it!”

Justin smirked. “That’s easy.”

Brian drew his lips into his mouth. “Think again, pretty boy.”

“One draw-back,” Justin sighed. “We can’t kiss.”

“Tough luck,” Brian grinned. “For you.”

Justin shrugged. “Get going, gorgeous.”

“Start talking, tomcat.”

Tomcat? That was the second time he called Justin that. Fancy Brian Kinney using terms of endearment. 

Melanie shook her head. Why had it taken her all this time to see that Brian wasn’t the heartless monster he pretended to be? She prided herself on an almost instinctive insight into her clients and their motivations. Why hadn’t she used her abilities to understand Brian better? 

Melanie suppressed her sigh. Because it was more convenient to use Brian as your scapegoat, she told herself. Stupid cow.

“Take that picture off the wall,” Justin murmured. “Hang the orchids instead. Gus won’t mind.”

“He wants the orchids in his room,” Brian replied, running his lips along Justin’s jaw. 

Justin exhaled. “Your orchids.”

“I want them in my room,” Brian smirked, nibbling on Justin’s earlobe.

Justin squirmed. “What room?”

“Kinnetik,” Brian said. “Good advertising for you, and something I like looking at for me.”

Justin lifted his head and kissed Brian. “Thank you.”

Brian lifted his brow. “For?”

“Explaining,” Justin said. “You never used to.”

Brian paused, then spoke. “I need for this to work.”

“You’re not alone,” Justin whispered, pulling Brian down into another kiss.

Apparently, they forgot all about their game after that.

The need to know more made it easy to ignore the increasing pricks of her conscience, so Melanie continued to look.

Somehow, she had always believed Brian did it fast and furious. She had been wrong. Brian did it slow and easy.

Brian took his time with his young lover, skillfully guiding Justin to the point where he was reduced to bared nerve, clinging tightly to Brian, fingers desperately digging into any part of Brian he could reach, whimpering his driving need against Brian’s neck.

“Now, Brian,” Justin demanded urgently. “Now!”

“So impatient,” Brian whispered. “So beautiful when you’re like this.”

Brian drew Justin over to his right so that they were lying on their sides, facing each other. Justin lifted his left leg, and Brian pushed his arm under Justin’s knee, pulling his leg up more.

“God, yes, “Justin moaned when Brian moved forward.

Eagerly, Justin brushed his fingers into Brian’s hair, tugging him into a passionate kiss. Tongues tangled, soft moans and murmurs from both men, rustling bedding… and then it was over.

Melanie took a steadying breath. Damn, the man was hot. Small wonder he was the unsung hero of Liberty Avenue. If his tricks got just a fraction of the attention he lavished on Justin… and she had never even known guys could do it face to face.

Justin curled up against Brian, kissing his shoulder. Brian exhaled, and held Justin close.

Melanie grinned. Brian Kinney doesn’t cuddle. Right.

Justin shifted, and pressed his lips against Brian’s neck. “Space.”

“You, too,” Brian murmured.

Melanie frowned. Had Justin really said space? She must have misunderstood. Then again, it was often difficult to follow the verbal shorthand they spoke. What was that thing about orchids they had been talking about?

Thinking they must have fallen asleep she was about to move out of the room, when Justin stirred.

Brian sighed. “What now, Justin?”

“Head,” Justin yawned. “Back in a sec.”

Silently, Melanie tried to move back, hoping to find cover somewhere between Brian’s suits.

Justin was too fast for her, he had reached the door before she could decide where to hide.

She saw his eyes widen even in the dim light. He shot a quick look back into the room, but Brian was spread-eagled on the bed, and his eyes were shut.

Justin roughly grabbed her wrist, and dragged her through into the bathroom.

“What the fuck are you doing, Mel? How long have you been standing there for?” His voice was a rough whisper.

“Not for long,” Melanie lied. “I’m looking for the kids.”

“Yeah, right,” Justin snorted angrily. “The room reeks of sex, you really think Brian would allow the kids in there?”

Melanie swallowed, but she didn’t have to answer because Brian drowsily called Justin’s name.

“It’s okay,” Justin said loudly. “It’s just Melanie looking for the kids.”

No reply, and Melanie drew a breath of relief.

Moments later Brian appeared in the room, barefoot, wearing Shane’s clothes again, his hair spiking in all directions.

Melanie stared, Brian had never looked better.

Unfazed, Brian returned her gaze and raised an eyebrow. “Where have you searched so far?”

Melanie cleared her throat. “Erm. The kitchen, living room, library.”

“Bedroom,” Justin added nastily.

“I should hope so, that’s where you check first,” Brian said calmly.

Justin shot Melanie an icy glare. “I meant our bedroom.”

Brian shook his head. “Next time, try the other door, Mel. The kids aren’t here when it’s locked.”

“They could come through the bathroom,” Justin objected.

“No, they know not to do that,” Brian said, walking into the kitchen ahead of Melanie. Justin stayed behind. “They’re not in the pool area, we just came back from there.”

Melanie wondered whether Brian was aware that well over an hour had passed since.

“It’s raining,” Justin said, joining them again.

“Stay here, guys,” Brian said. “I have a feeling they're with the damn cat again. Gus can’t wait for those kittens to appear.”

Before they could say anything, Brian had opened the door and was dashing toward the stables.

“What were you really doing in our room,” Justin asked, his eyes on Brian.

“Looking for the kids,” Melanie said. “I should have left when I saw they weren’t there. But I’ve never seen Brian like this, and I just couldn’t stop myself.”

“So much for privacy in your own fucking home,” Justin said hotly. “You had no right to be there.”

“Justin, I …”

“Shut up now, we’ll talk tomorrow. There’s Brian. He found them.”

Brian came running back through the rain, carrying JR. Gus splashed along, laughing.

“Here are your runaways,” Brian smiled, shaking droplets out of his hair.

Gus giggled. “Daddy says you were having kittens, Mom!”

Melanie sighed. “I was. Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?”

“There’s a note on daddy’s door,” Gus said. “I know to tell a grown-up when I leave the house!”

“We should’ve noticed,” Brian grinned. “Did you sneak past us when we were sitting out there?”

Gus nodded proudly. “That was exciting! We were right behind Justin!”

“Nice to know,” Justin grinned. “And, have the kittens arrived?”

Gus shook his head. “No, they haven’t. I wanted to come back to bed, but JR fell asleep, and I couldn’t leave her alone.”

“You make a great big brother,” Brian praised. “You even covered her with a blanket. Next time, I suggest you leave her behind when you go for your midnight stroll. She’s too little to wander around in the night.”

“I think so, too,” Gus said seriously. “But she heard me when I crept out the room, and she wouldn’t go back to sleep.”

“In that case, you’ll have to stay in the house. Don’t take her out again at night, Gus. And now it’s back to bed for you guys,” Brian said. “No whining if you’re tired tomorrow!”

Gus grinned toothily. “I can cope. And JR won’t be tired, she slept all the time anyway. She hasn’t even woken up now!”

Melanie shot her daughter a quick look. True enough, her eyes were closed, and she was breathing evenly. Everybody felt safe with Brian.

Brian smiled, and Melanie thought he smiled a lot more when Justin was around. “Well, let’s tuck her in before she does.”

Gus looked at the stairs, yawning. Justin went down on one knee, a habit he must have caught off Brian. “Piggyback ride, Gus?”

Gus beamed. “Yes! Great!”

“Shh,” Brian warned. “Not so loud, we don’t want to wake the whole house!”

Gus nodded, and climbed on Justin’s back, holding tightly.

Melanie went ahead, opening the door to JR’s room for Brian.

“I’m in the room on the right,” she heard Gus say.

Brian settled JR in her bed, smoothly tucking her in and brushing her hair out of her face.

“Thank you,” Melanie whispered, astonished that she had blatantly overlooked the affectionate side of the man.

“De nada,” Brian shrugged. “You want me to put her bed into the room with you and Gus?”

“No, thanks,” Melanie said quietly. “At least here she’ll know where she is if she wakes up. And she knows I’m just across the hall.”

Brian nodded. “I’ll leave you to it, then. G’night Mel!”

“Good night, Brian. And thanks again.”

Justin was waiting outside, and Brian slipped an arm around his waist. They went downstairs together, but Justin shot her a dirty look over his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Yoda - character from the Star Wars saga, wise teacher


End file.
